


Algonquin Bound

by Jollytr



Category: British Actor RPF, Richard Armitage - Fandom, Richard Armitage Fan Fiction - Fandom, Richard Armitage RPF
Genre: Camping, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Group of Seven, Love Conquers All, Personal Growth, RPF, Richard Armitage Fan Fiction, Tom Thomson, canoeing, lots and lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 153,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jollytr/pseuds/Jollytr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working as a guide for a wilderness outfitter, Hannah was confident that the ghosts of her old life wouldn't bother her again.   Enter the production company filming the story of Tom Thomson, famous Group of Seven painter.  It was up to Hannah's company to provide canoeing and wilderness training to the actors and actresses who would bring the story of Tom's life, and mysterious death, to the screen.   With a life long dread of water, Richard Armitage was not the most obvious choice to play the drowned artist, but he was determined to conquer his fears, once and for all.  Hannah and Tara take Richard and his co-star, Neve, on a ten day canoe trip to teach them how to paddle, back country camp, and to see all the places that inspired Tom Thomson.   In those ten days, Richard and Hannah confront fears and ghosts, and the elements.</p><p>Follow the wilderness and urban adventures of Richard and Hannah and discover whether or not they have the survival skills necessary for finding their way to each other.</p><p>Richard Armitage Fan Fiction fluff with a few laughs, a little bit of angst, a sexy time or two, and lots of camp(ing) ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wilderness Newbies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shieldmaidenofscotland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldmaidenofscotland/gifts).



> The painters, places, and historical people are real. You can go to Algonquin Park and see all of the things mentioned in this story. The modern characters, however, are all fictitious, existing only in my imagination. I don't know Mr. Armitage, Ms. Campbell or Ms. Lily and mean no disrespect to them by using their names or likenesses in this story.
> 
> Richard Armitage fan fiction at it's fluffiest. Admiration and respect intended.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another canoe trip successfully completed, Hannah asks her boss "what's next?" to discover she'll be taking a couple of actors on a wilderness orientation trip in the first chapter of this Richard Armitage fan fiction.

“Hannah, as soon as you have the last of the canoes washed and stacked let’s get together for a post mortem on the Leaside trip.”  Tara called out as she rounded the corner of the building to watch Hannah scrub and stack the canoes they’d used on their latest guided trip.

 “Sure thing.   All of the [_Temagamis_](http://www.swiftcanoe.com/#!temagami/c2wh) are washed.  Just two [_Winisks_](http://www.swiftcanoe.com/#!winisk/ck9y) left and they’ll all be done.”  Hannah brushed the hair from her face with the back of her hand as she continued scrubbing and hosing down the canoes.

“Check the Winisks carefully.  I scraped over some stumps on our way out this morning and I didn’t look for damage.” 

“Will do.  Surprisingly, I’ve only found a couple of scrapes on the Kevlar and a ding on one gunwale, but no mortal wounds.  Ha, and the scrapes were on the teacher’s canoes.  The kids did better than the grownups.”  Hannah chuckled.

Grimacing, Tara said, “Yeah, well it would be very embarrassing if it was me who did the most damage out of all those hooligans.   Say a prayer that my Winisk is ok.” 

Hannah finished scrubbing and stacking the ultra-light Kevlar canoes and noted the minor damage, which was nothing that would cost Leaside any of their security deposit.  She went back inside the outfitters building to find Tara unloading the mess kits from the dishwasher and smiled to see the expedition canoe packs already hanging on the line.  Tara was fast!  Not a surprise, she’d been outfitting paddlers and guiding wilderness canoe and hiking trips for over 20 years and had clean-up down to a science.

“You did great on this trip, Hannah.  You’re definitely ready to take lead from now on.   Let me dry my hands and we’ll finish the trip review.”  Tara patted Hannah on the back and nodded with a smile.

The two women went to the big staging area table and reviewed their notes on the trip they completed that morning.  It was a busy time for middle school and high school end-of-year trips.  Some schools sent their kids off to Ottawa or New York or some such city, others went on wilderness trips.   Lucky for Algonquin Outfitters, Leaside High School had booked three separate groups to do a one week wilderness leadership adventure in the interior of Algonquin Provincial Park in the central Canadian province of Ontario.   Two groups had already completed their trips earlier in June and with this grade nine class, they wrapped up their final guided school expedition for the season.

The challenges were the same as always: ensuring water safety (especially the much resented life vests); leaving minimal footprints on the park; fire safety; food storage; drinking water; all the usual culprits.  It never ceased to amaze Hannah or Tara that it was usually the kids who were more compliant than their adult chaperones.  Trying to keep life vests on teachers was a full time job in itself! 

They filed away their notes and Tara sent an email to the book keeper to authorize a refund of Leaside's full security deposit.  Another trip sorted and filed away. 

“Okay.  So what’s next?  The board looks busy with outfitting, but only a couple guided trips.”  Hannah slumped in her chair.  She was disappointed that they didn’t have more guided trips booked because she was itching to solo lead.

“Yeah, lots of equipment rentals, a few readiness-review packages and two guided trips.  One of them is for four days and the other is for ten days.”  Tara’s attention was focused on her iPad which contained all of the reservation details missing from the big white reservations board hanging on the wall.  “Uh, I think Mark will take the four day trip and you and I will do the ten day-er.”

Hannah’s shoulders drooped and she let out a long sigh.

“You are ready to lead Hannah, I promise!  This group has only two trippers, and they don’t want a three man canoe, so we need two staff.  They have requested intensive training so we’ll each have a lot of teaching to do.”

“Well, why don’t I solo and they go in one canoe?  Surely they don’t want to pay for two staff for ten days.  That’s a bit excessive for just two trippers.”  A little spark returned to Hannah’s eyes at the thought of leading her very first expedition on her own.

“Money’s not a problem.  It’s Warner Brothers paying for two actors to prep for a movie they're making about _[Tom Thomson](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Thomson)_.  I was thinking about going up through Canoe Lake to Otterslide and day trip to Tom Thomson Lake.  We can stop at the Tom Thomson memorial cairn and show them where his body was found and where he paddled.”

“Actors huh?  Anyone I know?” 

“Not sure.  All I remember is that they're making Roy MacGregor’s story _[Shorelines](http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/books-and-media/book-review-northern-light-the-enduring-mystery-of-tom-thomson-and-the-woman-who-loved-him-by-roy-macgregor/article1315493/)_  into a movie but I’m not sure who’s coming.  I’d guess that the actors will probably be the Tom and Winnie Trainor characters, but don’t hold me to it.”  Tara tapped her finger against her lips, trying to remember what the rep said about the actors.  She had been busy taking down the details of what they needed instead of paying attention to what they said about the people they'd be guiding for ten days.

Hannah shrugged and started scribbling on a notepad, listing all the things newbs needed to know about tripping and the extra bits which would fit with the Tom Thomson angle.  There were lots of local resources for the latter because there wasn't a resident of the Algonquin Park area who didn’t know the story of Tom Thomson, and that would come in handy.  Her deep concentration was softened by the huge grin as she drafted the ultimate trip.   Pre-planning was an important skill to master in order to be considered a top guide, and she was determined to prove her mettle.

Hannah sketched out the menus and equipment lists with an eye to teaching two complete newbies everything there was to know about canoeing and hiking in Algonquin Park, including paddling and camping skills, wilderness cooking, flora and fauna.  She relished the idea of having trippers who wanted to know more about the park than just where to find a decent campsite.

Two days later Hannah presented Tara with a tripping plan complete with detailed checklists.  Tara was impressed, but not surprised, by Hannah’s comprehensive package.  With Hannah at the helm, Tara taking second paddle was going to make this trip much more relaxing than any she’d had in a long time.  She smirked at the thought of slacking off a little.

“This is great.  You've really thought this through, Hannah.  You take lead on this trip and I’ll be your second.”   Tara caught Hannah’s infectious grin and smiled back, laughing when Hannah fist pumped the air with a huge " _Yissssssss_ ".

~ ^ ~

The following week they laid out all of the necessary equipment and supplies onto the staging area table and waited for their trippers to show up.

Hannah reviewed her checklists for the umpteenth time and mentally rehearsed how to explain the function and importance of each item.    She was triple checking the water microfiltration system when Mark walked into the staging area with two people following close behind.

“Hannah, this is Neve Campbell and Richard Armitage.  Neve, Richard this is one of your guides, Hannah Reading.”

Hannah was taken aback as the tall man strode over to her, hand extended and a smile lighting his handsome face.

“Pleased to meet you, Hannah.  So you’re the guide willing to take us neophytes into the wild? You'll have your work cut out for you I’m afraid.”   He continued to shake her hand, internally laughing at the slightly stunned look on Hannah’s face.

She looked down at her hand, dwarfed by his.  ‘ _Strong and warm.  Long fingers, great grip.  Sort of tingley_.’ She thought.  Snapping back to the present, her lips twitched and her cheeks pinked, “Yes, yes I am your guide.  I specialize in hard cases so you’re in luck.”   She grinned and then looked down at her tingling hand, surprised that it was still clasped in his. 

“Oh, sorry.”  Richard pulled a face and dropped her hand. 

“No, no.  It’s all right.  I just ... you ... it’s nice to meet you.”  Hannah stammered and turned to shake hands with Neve.

“Hi Hannah.  We’ve heard great things about [Algonquin Outfitters](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1b/c5/90/1bc5905b31e4a15007b4b8089379ba0b.jpg).  We’re really looking forward to the trip.  I mean, it _is_ for work but we can enjoy it too, can’t we?"  Neve moved over to the table to examine the items laid out there,  "Are all these things for us?”  .

“Yes.  This is the communal gear.  We’ll go over your personal kit and get you fitted for paddles and vests in a little while.  After lunch we’ll go across the road to Oxtongue Lake and begin basic canoeing skills.  Have you had any experience on the water?”  Hannah asked.   She looked to the very familiar, but not quite place-able, Richard who appeared to be a little green around the gills.

“I’ve been sea kayaking and water skiing.  I’m a strong swimmer but I’ve never canoed.  Bad Canadian.”  Neve joked.

“Richard?  How about you?  Any water craft experience?”  She was concerned about the decidedly anxious look on the big man’s face.

“Well this is sort of pushing boundaries I’m afraid.  I have a bit of a discomfort with deep water, but I won’t be done in by it.”  He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

A sound behind her caught Hannah’s attention and she turned to see Tara coming in from the rear door.  Hannah gave her a look which implored her boss to “ _Save me from the newbiest newbs in Newbville._ ”


	2. Camping Gear and Richard's Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for the trip: reviewing gear and discovering Richard's fear in the second chapter of this Richard Armitage fan fiction.

“Hi, I’m Tara Morton and I’ll be Hannah’s assistant on this trip.  It’s a pleasure to meet you." Tara shook hands with the two actors and turned to Hannah, "Anything you need me to do?”

“No thanks, we’re good for now.  Perhaps you’d like to join us for lunch and then we’ll get going on canoe skills.”  She turned away from the trippers again and pulled the elastic out of her thick brown hair to redo her messy bun, making it messier than it was before she tried to fix it.  Attention diverted, she stuck her tongue out at Tara for deserting her.   She toned down her smile from impertinence to friendly professionalism and swung back around to their customers. 

“Come on over to the table and we’ll go through our gear.  Richard, you can identify each item and Neve will tick it off the checklist.  So, what I’d like you to do is to call out each object and guess what it’s used for.  If you need a hint, just ask.”  Hannah handed a battered clipboard and plain Bic pen to Neve and nodded as Richard casually approached the table."

“Goodness, I didn’t know there was going to be a test.  Glad I sort of studied up, then.”  One side of his mouth quirked up and he chuckled under his breath.  It took three strides for him to reach the table where it would have taken five or six for Hannah.

Hannah hid a shiver at the visceral impact of his accented baritone and the easy humour in his blue eyes.  She made a mental note to Google him and, with a naughty twinkle, decided she might have to watch something of his work … for science.   Until then, she’d work at figuring out this interesting man.  He was big, strong, moved like a big cat, had a gorgeous smile and, for a yet unknown reason, he was purposely doing something which clearly scared him. _This one's a bit of an enigma, hmmmm._ She pulled at the neck of her t shirt and cleared her throat before meeting Richard’s eyes.

He examined each piece of gear on the table and, with an easy confidence, named it.  He nodded his approval of Hannah’s choice of equipment, only twice looking to her for explanations, and both of those were regarding the food.

Gear Checklist:

 

Kitchen and Mess Kit:

 

 

Hannah lined the blue and green expedition canoe packs with heavy duty garbage bags and packed the gear away ensuring spillables and breakables were well protected.   Once the packs were cinched and buckled she turned back to her trippers.

“Ok.  One at a time we’ll go through your gear and put them into a pack like these ones.  We’ll condense it so that we only take two packs with personal gear.  It’s important for portaging that there isn't more than four people can carry comfortably.  I’ll show you mine so you can see what I’ve packed and then we’ll do yours Neve.”  Hannah smiled encouragingly.

Hannah laid out her clothing and personal grooming kit on the table.  Neve, once again, checked off the items on the clothing checklist.

“You've got this down to a science.  Everything’s on the list and it looks like there isn’t anything superfluous.”  Neve nodded and helped Hannah slip her gear into ziploc bags. "You put everything into ziplocs and then garbage bags and then the pack? Is that for waterproofing?"  

Hannah smiled and nodded. She collected all of the ziplocs and artfully packed them into a garbage bag lined large red canoe pack.  “Tara said she sent a gear list along for you folks.  Did you have any trouble with it?”

Neve mumbled as she looked down and away, “I _may_ have gone a little bit overboard. Perhaps.”  

Richard snickered, “The three suitcases might suggest more than a _little_ overboard, Neve.  But who’s counting?”

Neve peered at him through squinted eyes and flipped her hair back with Vaudevillian exaggeration, “Choice is important.  Being prepared is important.  I’m ready _and_ I’ve got options.  That’s all, Mr. Perfect.”

“Oh you’ve got options all right.  You could outfit a small country, yeah?!”   He waggled his eyebrows at her.  “I’ll fetch the herd of pack mules carrying your luggage.”  Richard sauntered out to the car.

“He’s such a smart ass.   Everyone thinks he’s so shy and reserved.  Ha!  He’s got that dry English sense of humour – don’t get him started.  He’s got his Masters Degree in under-your-breath smart assness.” Neve joked.

Hannah barely contained her amusement as Richard returned, struggling with two massive suitcases.  “And there’s another one?”

“It’s bigger.  These are her overnight cases.”  He cracked his fingers and stretched dramatically.  “Say a prayer for my back.”  As he turned to go back to the car, he winked at Neve who rolled her eyes at him with feigned exasperation.

“You two are great together.   Have you known each other for long?”  Hannah hefted one of the suitcases onto the table and stood by as Neve slowly unpacked it.

“We met during a casting meeting a few months back and then we did a script reading a couple of days ago so, no, it's not been all that long.  It was an interesting drive up yesterday, we had a good laugh.   It’s great to hear you can feel a chemistry between us because we play lovers.  That’s always easier when you actually like the person to start with.”  Neve organized her clothes into piles and Hannah exchanged the empty suitcase for the full one.

Richard returned dragging a suitcase and moaning as if he was pulling a [Grumman Marathon](http://www.marathonboat.com/doubleend-18.asp) canoe filled with rocks.

“One question:  you do know that everything we take with us is carried in on our backs, right?”  Hannah asked and Richard sniggered.

“Options, remember.  Options.  I KNOW I’m not taking all of this.  Sheesh.”  Rolling her eyes at Richard was Neve’s new favourite pastime.

Hannah gave Richard a new Personal Gear Checklist.  “Ok.  Richard, you call out the things on the list and Neve, you go ‘shopping’ in this mess to fill the order.  Okay?”

In unison Richard and Neve said “Got it.”

“I am in total disbelief.”  The edges of Hannah’s eyes crinkled up as she shook her head. “Despite the fact that you had five times as much stuff as you need, you don’t have a rain suit or a pocket knife.   We’ve got the perfect stuff out in the store, we can fix you up.  Once we get Richard’s pack sorted out, we’ll go pick up what you need.” 

She helped Neve pack her unnecessary gear back into the suitcases and looked up at Richard, suppressing another shiver at the sight of thick lashes framing smiling blue-grey eyes.  “Sir, do you need help bringing your bags in too?”

“Mine is sat in the corner.”  He drawled and arched a brow as he tipped his head towards the hiking pack leaning against the paddle racks.

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline.  “I’m impressed.  Really impressed!  Let’s break it down and go through your checklist.  I’ve got a feeling you’re going to the head of the class.”  She caught Neve’s scowl and laughed at the two of them.

Richard was almost perfectly prepared.  The only thing he was missed was a whistle. His pack included an interesting blend of old and new, with the only questionable thing being three notebooks instead of one. 

“Mr. Armitage.  Now is the time of choosing.  Which of these lovely moleskins will be making the trip?”  Hannah asked.

Richard rubbed the back of his neck and spoke quietly.  “I … ummm … I sort of need all three.  It’s for work, really.  Usually there’re five on the go but I wheedled it down to three for this trip.”  

All he said was a few words in a quiet, neutral voice and the rest of the world faded around the edges.  Without any apparent effort, he commanded her attention and she stood there watching him with wide eyes.   Several seconds went by before she realized he was finished speaking and she was staring.

“Oh.  Well, if it’s for work I guess it’s okay.”  She offered a shaky smile and chastised herself for silliness.  “Let’s get all of this ziplocked, stowed and then we’ll go into the store to get your whistle and make Neve’s purchases.”

Hannah helped Neve find an appropriate, comfortable rain suit and moved on to the knife display where they found Richard oblivious to everything around him, except for the toys in his hands.   He paid rapt attention to the mechanisms and options on several Swiss Army knives.    He jumped and spun around when Hannah tapped his arm to get his notice.

“If I was a bear, I woulda bit ya.”  She teased.  Nodding towards the knives, “See something you like?”

“Yeah, I borrowed my brother’s pocket knife and it’s okay, but this one is brilliant.”  Richard re-weighed the knife in his hands and showed her the tools in the red Victorinox Dual Pro X.

“That is a great knife, a real lifetime keeper.   You should get it.  Have you picked up a whistle yet?  The [Fox 40](http://www.google.ca/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CAgQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFox_40&ei=cxTfVJaRKqXGsQSIuYCoCg&psig=AFQjCNH4r-rbW8K6E5hrK5i_kRA3cSQyoQ&ust=1423992307768154) is light, sturdy and very popular.”  She set Neve’s rain suit down on the counter and picked up the [Swiss Army Mountaineer Lite](http://www.sakwiki.com/show_image.php?id=3070) knife that Richard had been comparing.  “This is a versatile knife Neve, and not too heavy.  It’s got everything you’ll ever need.”  Hannah looked up at the rolls of cord above the counters. “Mark can you cut off a metre each of the blue 3m and the green 3m?  Do you have any ends of [p-cord](https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQDU05Sqj5zhW83J985OZuwGYZ9u0lKg9f3dW8ff0cfeNWKnyEc)? Thanks.”

Neve’s head tilted as she stared at the rainbow of different ropes.  “P-Cord?”

Hannah looked up and shook her head at herself, “Sorry.  We have some lingo that I don’t always remember to explain.  Always let me know if I say something cryptic.  P-cord is parachute cord and refers to the thickness and weave of the rope.  It’s a fantastic all-purpose line and ...  I’m down a quart.”   She grinned at the odd looks she was receiving.  “I have a bit of an addiction to rope.  Other than that gross yellow nylon stuff, I’ve never met a rope, cord, twine or webbing that I didn’t like.”  She shoved her hands in her pants pockets and shuffled her feet, completely aware of how bizarre what she said must have sounded.   She crossed her fingers that they didn’t think so too, to no avail.

Richard snorted.  It wasn’t loud and but Hannah definitely heard it and there was no doubt to the meaning of his naughty misinterpretation.   Hannah closed her eyes tight and let out a heavy sigh and she opened them again to find that that she hadn’t been swallowed by a sink hole and he was still there, smirking.

“The, ah, 3m refers to the diameter of the cord which is actually 3 millimetres.  This is the stuff we’ll use to make lanyards for you to hang your whistle and knife on.  They’re two important things you must keep on your person, and accessible, at all times.  See –“   Hannah reached into the top of her shirt and pulled out her own [lanyard with knife and whistle](https://img1.etsystatic.com/028/0/7920208/il_340x270.626711927_jagb.jpg) attached. She stole a glance at Richard and shook her head at the smirk which played across his lips.  Evidently he found rope between her breasts quite interesting. 

“So Boss, what’s on the schedule for this afternoon?  We won’t get into the water today, yeah?”  For an actor he did a crappy job of trying to look nonchalant. 

“We’ll go over canoe anatomy, how to lift, and portage carry.  Unless you two need any extra help with that, we’ll have some lunch and then climb into wet suits, and do some basic strokes and safety moves in the lake across the road.  How does that sound?”  Hannah watched Richard closely as he leaned against a pillar and folded his arms across his chest.  His lips were set in a grim line and his brows furrowed above clouded grey eyes which would not make contact with hers.   She'd have to keep an eye on him, panic could be deadly on the water.

“Excellent. Can’t wait to get into a boat.”  Neve twirled the rope with her whistle on it and grinned.  

Richard hadn’t moved but his body tensed at Neve’s exclamation. 


	3. Kitted Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about big feet ...

“Several years ago there was a terrible canoeing disaster on Lake Temiskaming. Twenty-seven boys and four teachers left on a sunny June morning for a three week canoe trip. An early afternoon storm struck and by the end of the day twelve boys and one teacher had drowned.   [The Coroner](http://www.sportlaw.ca/2010/02/a-tale-of-two-schools-reflections-on-risk-management/) found that:

  *   There were no route maps, nor had any of the teachers made that particular trip before.
  *   One teacher had no canoeing experience whatsoever, having arrived just days before from the U.K.
  *   The group had no rescue equipment and no emergency procedures.
  *   The teachers did not know which boys could swim and which could not.
  *   One of the teachers could not swim either.
  *   No one had canoed since the previous autumn.
  *   There had been no physical preparation or training for the trip, and no one had undergone any first aid, canoe rescue or lifesaving training.
  *   The canoes had been modified from their original design to accommodate more cargo which altered the their centre of gravity and balance.
  *   The trip kicked off after an all-night drive, with an early morning start and no hot food at breakfast or lunch.



Needless to say, there won’t be a repeat of any of those careless errors.   If it sounds like I’m going overboard with miniscule details it’s because I don’t want YOU to go overboard.   For the rest of today and probably most of tomorrow we’re going to go over far more than just the minimum for you to complete this trip safely.  Ultimately, if I don’t feel comfortable with your skills or bearing, we won’t go beyond Oxtongue Lake.  I don’t want that to happen because you won’t understand what Tom and Winnie loved about this place without getting out there yourselves.  Neve, it’s like what you said about chemistry – you can act it, but it’s better to start out liking each other.   You can act Tom’s love for the park, but it’s better to start out feeling some of it for yourself.   Any questions so far?  Hannah smirked at their doleful expressions but she was only half teasing about the latter.  "Ask questions or I’ll think you’re not paying attention and I might fail you.”  

They headed out to the canoe racks and Hannah handed each of them a clipboard with a diagram on it.  “Over the course of the day I’ll add to these pages and give you a binder to put them in when we’re done.  You can review tonight in preparation for a test tomorrow.”  She took note of their pained disbelief, allowing only a small twitch of her lips to betray her amusement.  “Richard, you said you studied up.  What did you learn about?”

“Well.  I did read quite a bit about canoes and safety and the sorts of animals we might see.  And … um … how likely we are to encounter bears.”   His voice dropped at the mention of bears.

“Excellent.  You’ll be our Professor of Canoes this afternoon.   And no worries about bears.  We can go to the dump if you’d really like to see some bears because the chances of meeting any on our trip are slim to none.”    Hannah smiled encouragingly, or at least she hoped it was encouraging.    “So, about canoes, if we need to say something in a hurry to each other, we need to all be speaking the same language.  Richard, let’s use this Temagami for you to show and tell all of the parts of the canoe. ”

Richard was a keen student and didn’t flinch at being put on the spot.  He pointed out each piece of the canoe, named it and explained its function, referring to the diagram Hannah supplied only once to check to see if the decks in the stem and stern had special names.

Hannah nodded, “Excellent.  Any ambition to be a tour guide in our store?  No?  Okay, guess my job is safe for now then.”  She chuckled, _as if HE would ever be a tour guide_.  “So we have over 20 canoe models.  Neve, any thoughts on what the differences might be?”

“Sure.  Size and what they’re made of?”  Neve answered.

“Absolutely.   What might they be made of?”   Hannah looked to Richard.

“Um … aluminium, wood, fiberglass, Kevlar or Royalex?”  He looked up at the treetops for the missing materials, but they evaded him.

“Yep.  Some places also use polyethylene, or canvas over wood but we don’t.   For our trip, aluminum and wood are too heavy, we won’t be facing any white water so we won’t need the Royalex so that leaves fiberglass and Kevlar.  Any guesses which one we’ll use?”  Hannah thought she’d stumped Richard.

“I should say we’ll take the Kevlar – ultra-light perhaps?  With four of us probably a 17 footer?”  He had a hint of a smug smirk as one eyebrow twitched up in question.

 

“Ok show off.  You’ll be taking a 17’6” Temagami and I’ll be taking at 16’6” Kipawa.  Now tell the class all about what makes a canoe fast, tippy, or easy to steer.”

For the next 20 minutes Richard took them on a tour of the canoe racks, pointing out differences in length, beam, depth, hull, profile, rocker, stem, entry line, fullness and symmetry.   After only a few minutes he was speaking quickly and practically jumping from canoe to canoe illustrating each feature and adding more detail than Hannah would have, had she been reviewing canoe physiology.

“Wow!  I’ve worked here for 3 years and I’ve just learned some of that stuff.  You’re a bit of a savant aren’t you?!”  She winked at him, surprised to see him pink up a titch.   He was a mystery to her.   It was easy to see he was intelligent and comfortable speaking in front of others, even when put on the spot, but he was uncomfortable being complimented for it.   _And this business of making a movie about a man who drowned even though he himself was scared of the water, what was that about?_

“So why are we taking two different kinds of canoes?”  Neve asked, puzzled.

“Primarily because I’m lazy.  The Kipawa is 37 pounds and the Temagami is 41 pounds.  I just can’t be bothered with those extra 4 pounds.  But I’m also very competitive and my little Kipawa can paddle circles around that big lug Temagami.  So even with this Incredible Hulk’s power stroke, I’ll beat him every time,” Hannah taunted Richard.

Richard’s eyes widened in surprise before he schooled his features.  Not for the first time did he wonder if the little woman in front of him had any idea of the suggestive things she said, or if it was just him that was turning everything she said into something naughty? Ropes and paddles and power strokes weren’t this interesting when he was studying back in his flat.   He thought it must have been the fresh air and wildness of the place appealing to the primitive in him.

“Moving right along.   No matter which canoe you’re in, you’ll be lifting something which is 40 pounds or more and you’ll have a pack on your back which weighs at least that much while you do it.   You can imagine how easy it would be to hurt yourself if you didn’t lift and carry properly.   So let’s practice that.   You two lift a canoe off the rack together and set it down on the grass.”   Hannah watched the muscles ripple under Richard’s snug tee shirt as he lifted the canoe down.  She greatly appreciated where she was standing as he bent over to set it on the grass.  She appreciated it very much indeed until she looked up and saw Neve laughing at her.  It was Hannah’s turn to blush, which she did masterfullly.

“Yeah.  Um. Good job using your knees instead of your backs.   Now, to [lift properly](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a2/ad/2c/a2ad2c07d484a813bcb0060d8ae4cbe0.jpg).”  Hannah moved to stand beside a Temagami.  “Stand in the centre of the canoe facing the opposite gunwale, grasp the gunwale closest to you, tilt the side you’re holding away from you, grasp the yolk and lift the canoe onto your knees, while resting it on your knees put one hand on each of the gunwales,  rock the canoe up by pushing with your legs to give it momentum, lift it up over your head and let the yolk rest on your shoulders while you make your hands more comfortable.  Et voila.  To lower it, just do the same thing in reverse order.”  Hannah smiled and looked at them to check their reaction and comprehension.  

“Pffft.  Easy for you to say.”  Neve grumbled. "Actually, I have absolutely no idea what you just said!"

“Oh, it’s not nearly as complicated as it sounds.  It all goes up in barely a second.  Momentum from your knees is the trick.”  Hannah [demonstrated](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ad5HzmQORhk) three more times, up and down, before she stood back to give Richard a turn.  In the blink of an eye he had the canoe resting comfortably on his shoulders.

“Ok Mr. Hulk.  You powered through it but you used your arms and back instead of your knees.  Which is easy for a big strapping fella like yourself, but it’s not the safe way and us delicate flowers can’t do it like that.  So try again, use your knees and proper hand placement.”

Richard snorted at the thought of Hannah being a delicate flower.   He quite liked being called a big strapping fella though, not minding the reference to his height in the least, which, upon consideration, was rather novel.   On his second attempt he faltered and nearly dropped the canoe.  

“It’s ok.  I’m ok.  Just give me a minute and I’ll get it up.”   He turned purple as the words left his mouth.  He made sure his back was towards the women for as long as possible and completely ignored their snickers.  He lifted the canoe six more times and bowed at the effusive praise bestowed upon him for his much improved technique, and made quite an extensive inspection of his cuticles for several minutes afterwards. _Get it up, indeed!_

Neve struggled the first time she tried to lift the canoe but was eventually able to raise it smoothly.   She was quite pleased with herself at the grace with which she finally settled the Temagami onto her shoulders. 

Neve and Richard practiced two man lifts for a few minutes and Hannah was satisfied that they could move in tandem without hurting themselves.   

The actors looked a little too sure of themselves, so Hannah decided to give them a tougher task.  She took them over to the Grumman canoes – aluminum behemoths which weighed at least 75 pounds and left aluminum black marks on everything they touched.   Richard grunted with the effort but was able to lift and balance it on his shoulders.  It took Neve 10 minutes to lift hers and she was panting by the time she was done.

“Why’d we have to do this monster canoe if it’s not the type we’re using?”  Neve asked.

“Well, Tom Thomson would have used a wooden canoe which probably weighed about 70 pounds.   He didn’t have an ultra-light Kevlar to toss around.   When we portage, keep this Grumman in the back of your mind so you can have a realistic idea of what Tom was carrying.”  Hannah was impressed to see Richard nodding in agreement and digesting the information, likely stowing it away for later use.

“Well, it’s almost lunch time.  What do you think about picking out paddles and wetsuits before lunch and then we can go over to the lake?”  Hannah asked, cheerful at the thought of having a bite to eat because breakfast felt like it had been a very long time ago.  Her cheer faded when she saw how pale Richard was, even though he was nodding in agreement to the proposed agenda.  _What a strange fellow._

“Richard, did you read up on paddles at all?”  Hannah asked, hoping to take his mind off the impending dip in the lake.

“Ahh, yeah, a bit.   Professor Paddle now too?”  He coughed and turned away as he smirked at the title, _Professor Paddle indeed_.  When he lifted a paddle and looked up to address the women he smirked when he saw the humourous leer afforded him by the lovely Miss Reading.

He coughed several more times as he pointed out the shaft, throat and tip of the paddle he was holding.   Not a single moment of his consideration of this project had prepared him for thinking like a school boy – sniggering at simple canoe equipment names as if he were making dick jokes.  But he was thinking and enunciating like he was in grammar school, and in the process of it he provided a great deal of amusement for his salty wilderness tour guide as well.

Richard expertly reviewed the different materials and styles of paddles in the store, complete with their preferred function.   He asked if they’d be using an ottertail or beavertail design and Hannah’s expression made a smug little smile tug at his lips.  He’d impressed her once again, and without any real effort. 

“Well, let’s go in shall we.  Either blade will work well on this trip so it’s a matter of trying them this afternoon and choosing which you like best.  Let’s go pick ‘em out.”  Hannah continued to talk as they walked inside the store and back into the outfitting room.   “There are two ways to pick the height of the paddle.  The first is to hold it up against you and if you’re the bowman it should come somewhere between your sternum and your chin.  If you’re the sternman it should come between your shoulder and your nose.   The other way is to kneel down on one knee holding the paddle with the grip on the ground and your hand on the throat.  Your arm should be parallel to the ground.  So, these are beavertail and ottertail designs, pull out different heights so you’ve got a couple to try.   Also pick out one or two of the other types of paddles and you can see the difference in the water.”

Neve and Richard examined all of the different types of paddles and each chose three to try out.  While they were looking through all of the paddles in the racks, Hannah went to find Tara, who was in the office formalizing their itinerary which would be handed in to the park rangers and a copy left with AO.

“Tara, you wanna join us for lunch?  We’re going over to the [Paddle Inn](http://www.realontario.ca/index.php/ontario-tourism-listing?pid=8583) for a bite.”  Hannah looked over Tara's shoulder and nodded at the details she saw there.

“Sure, love to.  When are you heading out?  I’d like to get this wrapped up first – maybe another 15 minutes?  Are you getting them into Oxtongue this afternoon?  You’ll want me for that, right? Are we dunking?  I’ll probably need a wetsuit, eh?”  Tara didn’t look up from the keyboard as she rattled off question after question, not giving Hannah a chance to answer one before she asked another.

“15 minutes is fine.  Yes, they’re going to learn strokes and hopefully rescue.  Yes, I need you.  Yes, we’re dunking and yes, you should suit up.”  Hannah chuckled and shook her head as Tara absentmindedly waved her off.

“Mmmm, ‘kay, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.  Meet you out front? Good.”  Tara continued typing and Hannah rejoined her wayward paddlers to find Neve coveting a cherrywood bent shaft paddle.

“This is gorgeous.  Why aren’t we using these ones?  They’ve got such a bigger blade, won’t they make us go faster?”   Neve asked.

“Richard?  You wanna take this one?”  Hannah tipped her head to Richard.

“Yeah.  Um.   Well the bigger the blade, the more surface area in the water, which does make it go faster.  But it also takes more energy to pull through so it’s sort of better for short trips, or maybe faster water that kind of needs a stronger stroke.  But I read that it’s a little better to have a thinner blade for long distance flat water so that one doesn’t tire.”  He looked to Hannah for confirmation and saw that she was pleased with his answer.   Richard didn’t know if he was chuffed that she was impressed or frustrated that she considered he wouldn’t know paddle basics because he thought he’d proven his mastery of theory.  

It niggled at him that he should have a bother for what Hannah thought.   Yeah, she was interesting, but he’d known her for all of three hours and she was nothing like anyone he’d been attracted to.  Maybe he was curious just because she was so different.   _Whatever!_  It wouldn’t matter because in less than two weeks he’d never see her again and since she’d hold their lives in her hands, it was decidedly a bad idea to have a bit of a fling no matter how curious he was.

“We’ve got a few minutes before Tara’ll be ready to join us so we should pick out wetsuits while we’re waiting.  Richard you look like you’re about, what?  6’3” and maybe 215?” 

“Ah … yeah … I’m almost 6’3”  … 6’2 ½ “ actually … and 14 ¾ stone – how much is that in pounds?”  Richard asked.

“Ahhh you Brits.  You and your stones.   Just a sec, I’ve got to grab a calculator.”  She rifled through a drawer in the desk by the wall and pulled out an old solar calculator.  “So, 14 pounds in a stone if I remember correctly.  Ah, 207 pounds.   Very good.”   She smiled broadly at her excellent estimation skills.   Neve looked suitably impressed and Hannah wasn’t about to tell her that she had to fit more people for wetsuits than she’d care to remember – as well as helping out with clothing in the store.  Anyone in clothing retail could guess height and weight in their sleep.

“I think you’ll be an XL Tall, why don’t you go try this one on?  And Neve, I’m guessing 5’7 - 7 ½”?”  Hannah asked, subtlety not asking her weight in front of witnesses.

“Yes, I am.  You’re good!”  She smiled, appreciating Hannah's discretion.

Hannah handed wetsuits to them and waited while her charges tried them on.    A few minutes later Neve called out, asking for help with the zip.    On her way to the dressing rooms Hannah caught sight of Richard returning to his room from the full length mirror in the hallway.  She gasped at his retreating form.   _His very fit, very shapely form.  His remarkably strong thighs and broad shoulders.  His very tall, very fit, very powerful form._    Fit and powerful crossed her mind more than once … or three times.  Neve peaked out around the door of her dressing room to catch Hannah standing there with her mouth hanging open.   One look at the direction of Hannah’s stare solved the mystery of her guide’s sudden catatonia. 

“I forgot to tell you which room I’m in – over here Hannah.”   Neve smirked and did her best to spare Hannah’s dignity.

“What?  Oh.  Oh yeah.  I’m coming.  Sorry ‘bout that.”  Hannah gave herself a shake and refocused.  “Here, let me give you a hand with that.”   She went into Neve’s room to help with the recalcitrant zipper.

“You know, he’s single.  Completely unattached.  Not a girlfriend in sight.”  Neve spoke quietly, ensuring only Hannah could hear her.

“Hmmm?  What’s that?”  She tugged on the zip which did not want to go up.

“Richard.  He’s free as a bird.  Just thought you should know.”   Neve smirked at Hannah’s confusion.

“What?  Why?”  Hannah’s eyebrows knit together and she tilted her head as if that might make her better able to understand Neve’s nonsense.

Neve simply kept on smiling and quirked up one eyebrow in response.

“Huh?   You must – oh, OH!  No, no, no.  I’m not interested in Richard.  No, absolutely not.  I mean, he’s a good looking guy, anyone can see that, but no, I’m not interested.”  Hannah shook her head as sternly as possible. _A really good looking guy._  

“Hannah, I’ve caught you checking him out at least twice and you blush every second time one of you speaks to the other, and, might I add, when he's talking, no one else in the room exists.  You hang on his every word.   He, by the way, doesn’t seem to be doing any better.   Now, I don’t know either one of you very well, but I’d put money on you two being, at the very least, ‘interested’.”  

Hannah shook her head and frowned.    _It was one thing to appreciate that someone was handsome.  It was another thing entirely to entertain ‘thoughts’ about them._    “No Neve.  I’m not interested.”  She sighed and with a final yank, got the zipper up, just as it dawned on her that if it was that hard to zip, it would probably be a bugger to unzip.    “How’s the fit?  It looks good from this side.”

“The wetsuit is fine, Hannah.  Everything is fine.”   She looked up at Hannah from under her lashes, hiding her smirk at Hannah’s not-so-subtle changing of the subject.   “Should I just leave this on under my clothes so we don’t have to go through this again this afternoon?”

Hannah laughed.  “Oh no.  You don’t want to do that.  You won’t be able to sit down long enough for lunch.  We got you into this, we can get you out.  Now, breathe in.”   Fortunately, the zipper came down on the second try and no skin was pinched in the process.

Hannah returned to the staging room where Richard was faux paddling with a broad blade, bent shaft paddle.   _Hehehehe, bent shaft paddle. Wipe those dirty thoughts right out of your head, old girl!_

“Guess we should get your booties.  What size shoes do you wear?  Wow – are those even feet?  They look more like boats.  No, not boats – pontoons.  Yeah, pontoons.  And you know what they say about shoe si—.”  She slapped her mouth with a loud thwack and started coughing. “Scuse me.  Be right back. Need water.”  Hannah scurried off to the staff room where she slammed the door behind her and slumped against it with a thud.

She avoided hyperventilating by getting control of her breathing and slowing down her crazy heartbeat.   _It was all Neve’s fault._ _She planted insane ideas in my head and I am NOT responsible for the ludicrous path my idiot brain took.  Yes, musing out loud on Richard’s penis size was all Neve’s fault.   Definitely.  All Neve’s fault.  Now, if only Richard missed it.  Good grief._   _Did he know what I was about to say?_

Hannah’s panicky deliberations were interrupted by Tara’s banging on the door. “Hannah, you in there?  Neve said you came this way.  Hannah?   HANNAH? What’s going on?” 

“Tara, c’mere.  Tar, I’m in so much trouble.   You’ve gotta help me.   I just told Richard he has big feet and I actually said out loud ‘and you know what they say about shoe size’.  I can’t go back out there.   Tar, tell them I’m not well and you take them to lunch.  And you lead this afternoon so I can just hide in the shadows.   Please Tar.  You’ve got to help!”   Hannah pleaded with her, turning red again at the thought of having to face him.

“YOU?  You told the movie star he has a big dick?”  Tara laughed out loud.

“Ha ha.  Very funny.  Yeah Hannah made a naughty.  Yuk, yuk, yuk.   Now, are you going to help me or not?”   Hannah’s face was a cross between petulance and mortification.

“No my darling.  I’m not going to do any of that.  But I will be Chatty Cathy for a little while to take the conversation pressure off you.   Now, let’s go out there and try not to molest our clients.”   Tara snorted and tried to resume some sort of professional composure.

They met up with Richard and Neve and, true to her word, Tara stepped up and directed the conversation, ensuring Hannah didn’t have to speak much at all.    As they left Algonquin Outfitters for the car, Richard looked at Hannah, who wouldn’t make eye contact, and he couldn’t hide his smirk.  

If he doubted what she was going to say about his shoe size – erm, his _other_ size – he no longer did.  She was clearly embarrassed and the little looks she kept stealing at him were hilarious.   Oh he was going to have fun.  Yes, Miss Hannah had a naughty sense of humour and he was going to play on it.  She’d made him blush, he was absolutely going to return the favour and turn her crimson.  _This day 's going to be the most fun I've had in a long time._    And just to get started, he adjusted the crotch of his jeans as soon as she looked his way.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the chapters are short, I will post two per week. When longer, they will be posted once a week. Unless I get giggling or excited and then all bets are off ;-)
> 
> Neve and Richard learn a great deal of technical information in this chapter. They are quick studies so there won't be a need for this level of instruction in future chapters. Or, in other words, the story isn't all about paddles, lifting canoes and wetsuits. It was important to build trust in Hannah, that she knows what she's doing and they are safe in her care.


	4. Under the Starry Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A telling off; swamping; lovely dinner; and a cold awakening.

The five minute drive to the Paddle Inn consisted of easy chatter between Tara and Neve, _and_ awkward silence between Hannah and Richard.    His lips twitched every time she looked at him and he couldn’t help suggestively shifting in his seat, which made her choke and/or turn crimson.

Tara and Neve strolled into the casual little family style restaurant as Richard held the door for the ladies.  Despite her best efforts, Hannah was the last of the women through the door.    

Richard ducked down to her ear and spoke in a low, naughty voice, “I’m looking forward to being fitted for my boots.  You’re quite good at guessing sizes.”

Hannah gasped and whipped around to look him square in the eye.  “Enough.  Come here.”  She grabbed hold of Richard’s arm and dragged him around the corner of the restaurant.   “Look, I know I said some pretty … ambiguous things.  But it was not intentional and I certainly wasn’t trying to embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable.  Ever since my last little … mistake … you’ve been taunting and baiting me.  That’s going to stop RIGHT NOW.  Do you understand me?”  The veins protruding from her neck and the finger poking into his chest left little doubt as to the level of her anger.  

“Nod if you understand.”   He did.  “Now, we are going to be in very close quarters for the next week and a half and I will not be spending it worried about double entendres and your depraved sense of humour.  Nod if you understand.”   He did.  “You’re the client – I’m the guide.   I’m the boss out there.  Understood?” He nodded again.  “If you can’t respect me here, what chance is there of you respecting my authority out there?”

Richard raised an eyebrow and looked at her with a new appreciation.  “Yes ma’am.”   _Feisty little thing._

“Don’t you ‘yes ma’am’ me!  You’ve been trying to throw me off kilter for hours.  With your smouldery looks and deep voice and your stupid accent and your long legs and your totally double-meaning words.   I won’t tolerate it.  Do you understand?”  She paused.  “I’m waiting – DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”   He nodded.  “Good.  Glad to see we’re on the same page.  Because if I think for a moment that you’re going to embarrass me, you’ll be introduced to Mark as my replacement.   Is that clear?”   He nodded.  “Good.  Anything to add or are we done here?”   She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tapped her foot.

“No ma’am.  I’ll be good.  I promise.”   He said in his most sincere, repentant voice.  It was a credit to years of theatrical training that he was able to do so with a straight face.  _Oh, I'll be good.   And you can be the boss of me any day._    How the snickers didn’t burst forth he never understood.   What was clear was that she was affected by him – affected, indeed.   And she was a bit testy about it.  Correct that, a great deal testy about it.  He’d have to be considerably more subtle so he didn’t take a paddle to the back of the head.  At that exact moment he decided he would make her eat her words – she’d be begging him for his smouldery looks and deep voice and stupid accent and she would egg him on for even more naughty meanings. 

Hannah scowled all the way into the restaurant, only lightening up when she sat down beside Tara.    Neve and Tara exchanged shrugs at the tension between Hannah and Richard, continuing their conversation about kayaking in British Columbia.   Hannah remained sullen and as long as she did, he maintained his humble deference.

“So, Richard.  How did you come by Tom Thomson?”  Tara asked before taking another bite of her burger.

“It’s Neve’s fault, really.”  He paused when he saw Hannah’s eyes wrinkle in confusion.  “I was at an event with JJ – JJ Feildd, Neve’s partner, and we were talking about this and that.   He said he was going to be spending some time in Canada the following summer because Neve was filming a project about the painter, Tom Thomson.   That was about the end of it.  But I’d been painting again and was curious about this artist fellow.  I looked him up and initially didn't care much for him, thinking him just another nature painter, really.  Something about his mysterious death caught my attention and I read a bit more.  Soon I was hooked on his story and asked my agent to inquire about the movie.  I didn’t hold out much hope, thinking it was already cast since Neve was confirmed enough for JJ to speak of it.  They had another actor who backed out and that was it, really.  It kind of fell into place quite easily.”

“But why do you want to do it?  This is a story on and about the water – which you don’t like.  Why in the world would you sign up for this????”  Hannah blurted out.

He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of insane.   But it seems that every movie I sign onto ends up putting me in the water anyway, so why not do it on purpose?    And honestly, water doesn’t bother me nearly as much now as it did years ago.  Experience, I guess.”  He shook his head as he gazed off into the distance.  “Which really doesn’t make much sense because I’ve nearly drowned on most of the films.  I guess I should sort of be more scared rather than less.”  He shrugged.

“Well, I can’t promise you won’t drown but you’ll be as safe as anyone can be in a canoe on open water.”  Hannah stated emphatically. 

“I am absolutely confident I’m in good hands.”  He said innocently as he took a bite of his sandwich.

Hannah squinted at him, weighing whether or not there was some kind of innuendo in his meaning.  He looked as guileless as a choirboy and didn’t pull any of his smouldery or knowing looks so she decided he was just being complementary and it was her dirty mind playing tricks on her.

They continued chatting about the film throughout lunch and on their drive back to Algonquin Outfitters - AO.  Neve was passionate about the project, trying to get it off the ground for years.  She fell in love with Tom Thomson and [The Group of Seven](http://mcmichael.com/collection/seven/index.cfm) when she was in high school and was thrilled to finally be making a movie about him.  If this worked out, maybe she could get her movie about [Emily Carr](http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/emily-carr/) made.

“Hannah, can you help me with the other pieces to the wetsuit? The main body piece you gave me seems to work.  Do I need a head piece as well as the booties?”  Richard chewed the inside of his cheek.  “Hopefully you have boots that will fit.  Unfortunately I have extraordinarily large feet.”   He paused for only a second, “And often have a very difficult time finding footwear to fit properly.”

Her head shot up and she glared at him.  But he had that guileless look again and didn’t _seem_ to be baiting her.  She scowled for a few moments while she fetched the shoe sizer from the footwear department. 

“Take your shoes off and place your left heel here on the sizer.”  She knelt down in front of him and made sure his heel was tight up against the side.   He didn’t breathe with her kneeling before him like that.  He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hide the effect she was having on him.  She looked up at him and could have sworn she saw something flicker in his eyes but it was gone before she could be sure.   “Yeh, you’re a size 12 ½ .  We have some 13’s and some 14’s just in case.”  She tapped his calf and took the sizer away.  “I’ll be right back with some for you to try.   Neve what size shoe do you wear?  An 8?  8 ½ ?”  

Hannah sighed and fetched several pairs of wetsuit boots for Neve and Richard to try.   While they were trying them on, she took her own wetsuit out of the carrier bag hanging up on the back of the door.

“Normally you wouldn’t be walking around with just these booties on so, while we’re on land, you’ll have to wear your own sandals over them.  If they won’t fit, we have spare Crocs you can use.”  Hannah snickered at the thought of Richard-the-movie-star wearing Crocs.  _Surely that would cause an international ruckus._

Footwear all sorted out, the paddlers went back into the dressing rooms to don their full wetsuit gear.   Tara and Hannah were waiting for them, Teva sandals comfortably secured on their bootied feet.  Hannah kept her eyes on Neve because Richard didn’t look any less spentifulous even though she was still frustrated with him.

"Excellent.  Now for PFD’s – personal flotation devices or life jackets.  They go by chest size.   Find your size and try one on.  Zip it up and tighten the straps, making it snug but not binding.  We’ll test each other’s by tugging on the shoulder straps and if the vest rides up or moves, the pfd is too big and you’ll have to go down a size.  Richard, the Kokatats are good for bigger folks, Neve I think you’ll like the Stohlquists better.”

When everyone was suited up and equipped they grabbed their paddles and made their way out to the canoe racks.

  
Neve and Richard easily took down the canoe and lifted it to carry.  While Hannah deftly lifted a Winisk onto her shoulders.“Okay, Neve, Richard, bring down a Temagami and we’ll head over to the Oxtongue.”

“Ahh, forgetting something?”  Hannah and Tara patiently waited.

 

“Paddles.”  Richard said.

“Yeh.  Remember on a portage you can make two trips, but that’s exhausting and wastes precious daylight time.  So try to do the portage in one pass.”   Tara waited to see if they could work it out without hints.  It was Neve who figured out they could thread the paddles through the thwarts and actually create handles, of sorts, on the canoe.

They crossed the road to the small lake and lowered their canoes onto a short dock. 

Tara covered the procedures for water entries, ensuring Neve and Richard understood how to use their paddles to stabilize a canoe in order to climb in safely.  They practiced 'putting in' and out several times until both Tara and Hannah were comfortable with their form and stability.  Boarding, docking and beaching a canoe without tipping too far, falling out or damaging the canoe was something to get used to and it appeared both Neve and Richard had an aptitude for it.“Tara will partner with Richard and I’ll partner with Neve for the afternoon.   Now, there are several environments to ‘put in’ and we’ll cover two of them today:  how to get into the canoe from a dock and how to do it on a [soft shoreline](http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=a41Suo3GM7U&u=/watch%3Fv%3D0XDH6N86K4k%26feature%3Dshare).”

Hannah and Tara  demonstrated the[ basic canoe strokes](http://www.boatingsidekicks.com/canoe/canoe6.htm):  forward, draw, pry and backward.  The actors practiced over and over, maneuvering around buoys and docking gently.    Once Richard and Neve became comfortable and competent with the four basic strokes, Tara and Hannah showed them the [J stroke and C stroke](http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=xLa-Ax6W_4U&u=/watch%3Fv%3D_zHSfEhEqkU%26feature%3Dshare), aka sweep stroke, for the sternman.   They experimented with different combinations of strokes to show how the canoes would move and then took the canoes to dock.   They practiced walking in the canoes and switching positions without getting out.   Neve and Richard finally took the stern in the canoes, taking their turn as ‘captain’.   They practiced all of their strokes and laughed at as Neve and Hannah went round and round in circles. 

Hannah and Tara taunted and teased each other, claiming paddling superiority.   They challenged each other to a relay race with 'serious consequences' for the loser.    They both knew that Tara’s canoe would win – Tara was a stronger paddler than Hannah and she had the unfair advantage of The Hulk in her canoe.  Hannah and Neve didn’t stand a chance against them but Hannah fully intended to cheat.

They moved the buoys to set the course and agreed that there would be four laps, with each paddler taking a turn in the stern and the switch would happen on the water.    Losers were to buy a bottle of wine for dinner.

Before they shouted ‘go’, Hannah whispered to Neve who chuckled and nodded.  As expected, Tara and Richard quickly overtook Hannah and Neve.   But the slower canoe didn’t round the buoys as expected, instead they used their strokes to paddle backwards and gained valuable time that way.

“You buggers!  You’ll pay for that!”  Tara shouted and shook her paddle at them.

Because Neve was so much smaller than Richard it was much easier for her to switch positions with Hannah than it was for Tara and Richard, giving them another slight time advantage.   On their last lap, Hannah and Neve used their paddles to push their competition into the reeds resulting in a great deal of swearing and laughing.

Tara and Richard still won, but only by a hair and Hannah and Neve argued till they were blue in the face that the Little Ladies (as they called themselves) were the rightful winners.  No matter, they lost and eventually admitted so, but not after a rousing defense of small women everywhere.

“Ok, now that’s settled. You two are such good students we have enough time to do some rescue work if you think you’re up for it.”  Hannah looked to her clients with a challenge especially for Richard, half expecting him to decline.

“Of course.  Let’s do it.”  He took a deep breath and forced a smile which did not reach his eyes.

Hannah exhaled slowly, all of her competitive piss and vinegar evaporating with her breath.   He was a man with a fear of the water and she was going to send him into the drink.

“Remember, we are in a shallow lake and you have pfd’s.  We won’t ask you to do anything which will put you in any danger and we’ll demonstrate everything as many times as you like before you have a turn.  Everyone ok to proceed?”  Hannah watched their body language and was comfortable with the sincerity of their desire to continue.

Hannah and Tara showed them exactly how hard it was to actually tip a canoe.  They both stood on the gunwales and rocked the canoe so dramatically it caught the attention of some people walking by who stopped to watch.   When they finally did capsize Neve, Richard and the strangers all cheered.

They used both canoes to show how to get back into a canoe after falling out and [how to turn a swamped canoe](http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=3K6vtykgsKo&u=/watch%3Fv%3DguDmxl4kVsU%26feature%3Dshare).   Once both canoes were right side up, they showed Neve and Richard the method for doing a canoe-over-canoe rescue.    They repeated swamping and righting several times, showing off and making their spectators laugh.

Bringing the canoes back to the dock, they reviewed the essential steps and asked for final questions.  Richard was unnaturally still and short with his answers.  

“Before you guys take your turn, it’s a good idea to check the equipment.  Check your paddles and check the gunwales, thwarts and yolks of the canoes.  Neve can you do that this time?”  After Neve nodded Hannah turned to Richard and spoke quietly, “Richard I’m going to start this easier for you.  I’ve got your back.  Do you trust me?” 

Richard nodded but his body did not relax, nor did the grim set of his lips.

“Just between you and me – let’s have a safe word so that if it gets to be too much, you say the word and I’ll pull you out.  Any preferences for the word?”

“Thomson.”  He didn't register the other possibilities of creating a 'safe word', he was far too anxious about the pending dunking.

“Good choice.  Anything you say which includes Thomson will push the stop button.”

When Neve gave the thumbs up on the equipment she and Richard checked each other’s pfd’s.

“Ok, we’re going to start a little differently this time.  You’re not going to swamp yet, you’ll start by getting into the canoe from the water, as if you've already fallen out.  Take the canoes out until you’re about chest deep in the water and give it a try from there.”

Richard and Neve did as instructed, walking the canoes out to Neve’s chest height.   While trying to get into her canoe, Neve tipped it, pulling it over top of her and she shouted in frustration, trapped underneath the canoe.   Tara was close by and joined her under the overturned canoe.

“Neve this is actually a great thing to learn.  Now that we’re here, we can do this kind of righting.  Grab the thwart.  Good.  Now let’s tip the port side just a bit to break the vacuum.  Excellent.  Ok now lift up as far as your arms can reach and tip to starboard, push and let go.   Perfect.  Now we have a righted canoe which isn’t filled with water. You ok?  You need to catch your breath?”  Tara gave Neve a moment to collect herself.  “It’s a little bit counter-intuitive but make sure when you’re climbing in that you do NOT grab the opposite gunwale.  Hold onto the yolk or the gunwale you’re climbing onto.  So trust you’re not going to sink it by leaning on one side unless you pull the other side over top of you.  Just remember, it's like you saw when Hannah and I were bobbing, it’s not easy to capsize or flip by putting weight along one side.  

Richard took his turn under Hannah's watchful eye, doing quite well with each technique.  The only telltale sign was the grim set of his mouth, lips white from being tightly pressed together.  In chest deep water Neve and Richard practiced swamping, righting and getting into their canoes for nearly an hour.  They were able to get in consistently but were exhausted from their efforts.

Hannah kept very close eye on Richard who maintained his bleak expression but never made a peep of complaint or gave any signs of surrender.  She tipped her head in respect and offered a small smile which he returned.

“You two have been absolute troopers this afternoon.  I think it’s a good idea to call it a day … well for Tara and I anyway. You two still have to study for your test tomorrow.  We’ve got notes on everything you’ve done this aft which you can take with you.”  Hannah laughed and shook her finger at them in warning. "And I expect straight A's from my students."  

Neve and Richard groaned, neither wanting to spend the evening studying about canoes and paddles and strokes and packing lists and swamping and canoe-over-canoe rescues.

“Let’s go get the canoes washed and racked, the suits cleaned off and I’ll give you the rest of your info sheets.”  Hannah and Tara picked up their canoe and led the way back to the shop.

An hour later everyone was showered and re-dressed with papers in hand and exhaustion written on their faces.

“So, Neve and I owe you two mashers a bottle of wine.  We can either have an early supper tonight or save it for your last night here after the trip.  Which would you prefer?”  Hannah asked the winners.

In unison Richard and Tara chimed, “Tonight.”

“All-righty then.  Tonight it is.  You guys are staying at [Arowhon Pines](http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=Zb3s4yn3vLA&u=/watch%3Fv%3DnW18_VvhUEg%26feature%3Dshare), right?  What time would you like Al and I to come over?”

Neve looked to Richard and they agreed 7:00 would be just fine. 

“The Arowhon doesn’t serve alcohol but you’re allowed to bring your own in.  Neve, I’ve got to go into Huntsville anyway so I’ll  pick up some wine there.  You 'winners' have any preferences?” Hannah said to Tara and Richard, making air quotes around 'winners'.

Tara wanted Chablis and Richard wanted Pinot-Noir.  “Ok, that settles it.  I’m getting a rose.”  She snickered at their protests.  “Oh grow up, I’ll get something decent.   A nice Thunderbird or something in a pretty box, maybe some Bright’s President’s Choice.  Do they still make that?”   Hannah walked away with all of her tripping companions groaning.

 Three hours later Hannah pulled into The Arowhon Pines parking lot and took a deep breath.  There was a time when she took luxurious accommodations like these for granted.  But she was happy in her cozy two bedroom bungalow and didn’t miss the complications which accompanied the high life.  There was a time when she spent an hour on hair and makeup.  But she was happy with her messy bun and a light touch on the makeup.  There was a time when her clothes all had high end designer labels but she was happy with her deep green sweater dress bought off the rack at The Bay, which felt wonderfully soft against her skin.

She was a few minutes early and hoped they’d be in the dining room already.  Even though she had come to an unspoken truce with Richard in the afternoon, she was not interested in knocking on his bedroom door to find him.   _'Avoid all appearance of evil' was a good proverb, one which saved a lot of trouble._  

She walked in through the dining room door and waited at the hostess station, pleased to see very few patrons.  That would make it easier to find her friends.   She gave her name and the hostess smiled, asking her to follow.   Hannah looked up and saw Richard immediately.  He was standing and smiling that incredible little crooked half grin of his.  The one which wasn’t quite a smoulder but spoke of something … something indefinable but eminently compelling.

She walked to the table in one of those moments Neve described as 'the rest of the world fades away'.   They didn’t break eye contact until he whispered in her ear “You’re lovely.”  When he put his hand on her chair to help push it in for her, it brushed her back for a second longer than was absolutely necessary and sent tingles along her spine.   She was numb and partially speechless, language temporarily evading her.  

The waiter came and opened their wine, a Louis Jadot Premiere Cru Chablis and a Bouchard Aine et Fils Cote de Nuit Burgundy – one of the finest pinot noirs from France.   Hannah would have preferred a nice single malt but the wines were good and she always enjoyed a decent Burgundy.   The dinner was delicious, or so she assumed because she didn’t remember much of it.  She didn’t remember ever being the subject of such intense, single minded focus.    Richard didn’t take his eyes off of her and was determined to make her laugh, which he did, but she didn’t remember what he said to do so.

The four of them were the last in the dining room and Neve began yawning frequently, suggesting it might be time to call it a night.    Tara looked at Hannah and Richard and weighed her next words carefully.   _It was probably a terrible idea, but sometimes you just had to go with your gut._

“Did you have a chance to go down on the deck after you arrived last night?”  Tara asked Neve and Richard.   When they indicated they hadn’t, Tara continued, “You really must.  It’s a gorgeous view and on a clear night, it’s spectacular.   Well, I’m going to have to call it a night.  See you both tomorrow morning?  Shall we say 10am?  Excellent.  Night, night all.”

Richard stood as Tara rose and left the table with a cheery wave to all, and a private wink to Neve.

“Oh I’m just completely wiped out.  That wine has done me in.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to desert you too.   You guys should go check out the deck.”  Neve hid a yawn behind her hand and said goodnight, congratulating herself on an Oscar worthy performance given the fact that she wasn’t the  least bit tired and she hadn't had a real yawn for hours.

Richard stood again as Neve left and gave her a kiss on both cheeks to say goodnight.   He sat back down and fidgeted with his wine glass.   After an awkward silence he looked up and quietly asked, “Are you off now too?”

Hannah froze.  There was no doubt in her mind that there was something between them.  She had no idea what, but whatever it was, it was there and she knew he knew it too.   He was throwing the ball into her court and she didn’t know if she wanted to play.   If she was honest with herself, she had to admit there were too many things against exploring ‘it’.   There was the matter of the altercation outside the Paddle Inn that afternoon, which was increasing in 'why did I over react so badly?' squickness as each moment passed.   And the fact that he was a tripper in her care was not acceptable.  Of course the fact that there was an expiry date on knowing him didn’t help either.  

With a sigh she was about to say, ' _I really must be going too_ '.   But instead she croaked, “I could stay for a little while longer.   It _is_ beautiful on the deck – would you like to?”

His look of approval was unmistakable.  “It’s a bit chilly, do you have a jacket, or ....?”  When she shook her head no, he continued.  “I can give you one of mine, if you like?”  

Hannah smiled and nodded, “That would be great.  No sense getting pneumonia before our trip.” 

Richard rose to fetch his jacket and his steps stuttered.  He hesitated on whether he should wait for her to accompany him or if he should simply fetch the jacket and return to her in the dining room.  He virtually bolted out of the room feeling like an indecisive amateur.   Where was the guy who was going to torture her with crotch jokes and who would spare no expense in making her blush?   _That guy_ apparently abandoned him and left a nervous Nelly in his stead.  _Cripes – how phenomenally ridiculous._     He grabbed his favourite cardi and high tailed it back to the dining room, but when he got there she was gone.

_It was probably for the best.  What good could possibly come from them spending time alone under the stars?  None.  Yeah, it was for the best._

Richard turned to head back to his room when one of the staff approached him.

 “Sir, your friend is out on the veranda.”  The young man explained and continued on his way back to the kitchen.

Richard’s thoughts took a 180 degree turn and he was no longer thinking of the noble best ... just what might be the _immediate_ best.

  
He walked out on the veranda and gently draped his sweater over her shoulders and smiled back when she looked up at him.  He hadn’t removed his hands from her shoulders and it was unnerving her.  He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his solid chest against her back.  _It's been so long since I've been so close to a man and it does feel kinda good.  Yeah, it feels quite good.   Really good._   So good she leaned back into him and closed her eyes.  _Oh_ _damn, he felt good._

 

They stood like that until Richard started cramping.   “Would you like to walk down on the deck?”   His voice was husky and an maybe half an octave lower than usual.

“Mmm hmm.  That would be nice.  Thanks for the sweater , it is chilly tonight.”  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, enjoying the feel of his sweater under her palms.

They walked down the steps of the veranda onto the deck and were entranced by the fullness of the clear night sky.    Their eyes were on the glittering diamonds sparkling against the navy blue sky as they walked along the deck, in awe of the spectacular view of the Milky Way.   “Hannah, I –“

His words were cut off by a huge splash as Hannah fell off the deck into the lake.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have created Pinterest boards for:  
> Pre-Trip planning: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/ao-pre-trip/  
> Oxtongue Lake: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/oxtongue-lake/  
> The Arrowhon Pines: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/arowhon-pines/


	5. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

“HANNAH!   Hang on,  I’m coming.”  Richard toed off his left shoe and was trying to get the other off when Hannah’s swearing interrupted him.

“Just take my purse.   I’m fine … well not fine, I’m wet and freezing … but I’m ok.”  Hannah tossed her purse up onto the deck and hoisted herself out of the water.   “Oh damn, your sweater is cashmere.  It’s probably ruined.”

“Hannah I don’t give a flying fuck about the sweater. Are you sure you’re ok – did you hit anything?  Are you bruised?  We’ve got to get you out of those clothes before you catch your death.”   Richard grabbed her purse and pulled her close to him, rubbing her arms in a completely ineffectual attempt to warm her. 

“I’m fine.  Seriously.  Other than my dignity, which is definitely on the bottom of the lake, I’m okay.  Honestly.    I wouldn’t mind a towel though.”  She laughed.

“Of course.  Yes, certainly.”  Richard kept his arm around her shoulders to guide her along the deck, safely, and back into the Lodge.   Despite assurances that she was completely unharmed, tension knotted his muscles and twisted his features into a grimace.  

 **** He impatiently pushed his door open and ushered her into his room.   When he came back from the bathroom with a big fluffy towel, he stopped dead in his tracks.  Her soggy knitted dress clung to every inch of Hannah and she looked like a voluptuous, wet goddess.  Her hair was hanging loose in long dark waves and the way she was snickering and searching the heavens for her pride made him falter.

“Um.  Here you go.  I’ll get you a pair of trousers and a shirt to change into before you catch your death.”  He pulled open his suitcase, getting more and more exasperated as he rifled through it, unable to find anything appropriate.

“Or I could go knock on Neve’s door and get some girl clothes – which we both know she has an excess of.”  Richard was in worse shape than she was and it dawned on her that falling into a lake must have been one of his worst fears.   A lump formed in her throat when she realized he was willing to jump in after her, no matter the fear.

Hannah gently laid her hand on Richard’s arm and gave him a small, reassuring smile.  “Maybe we could just sit for a minute and then we can worry about dry clothes.”  He nodded and ran his fingers through his hair.   He plopped down on the couch beside her only to pop back up and clamp his hand over his chin, anxiously rubbing his cheek.  

 “You could have … you might have been … what if –“ He stammered.

 “Lacking a sea monster, there’s no chance anything could have happened.  You forget, I’m a professional.”  She grinned and puffed up, pretending to look indignant that he should doubt her prowess.   What she didn’t say was that anyone could clunk their head and drown in a few inches of water.  He didn’t need to be reminded of that.

“For a second I thought … you went right down … I thought you –“ He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, “- I thought you drowned.”   When he opened them he tentatively patted her shoulder and stared at her.  He began blinking rapidly and shook his head, his lips firmly set in a grimace.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and assume it’s more than a soggy canoe instructor that’s bothering you right now.  You wanna talk about it?”  She took his large hand in hers and gently rubbed it. "I'm a really good listener."

“No, no.  It’s got nothing to do with me.  You –“

“C’mon Richard, don’t kid a kidder.   You’ve already said that you’ve got water issues and you can plainly see I’m absolutely fine but you’re still stressed out.   You don’t _have to_ tell me, but you _can_ tell me anything you want to.”  She softly stroked the back of his hand and tried to get him to make eye contact.

His slumped down on the edge of the couch and frowned.  “It’s silly, really.   A grown man should reason his way through it.  You know you should, and sometimes you do, but sometimes it jumps up and wraps its slimy tentacles around your throat and won’t let you breathe, or reason a thing.   Apparently as a young child, I fell into deep water while strapped in my push chair.  You spend the rest of your life trying to overcome such an irrational fear.  Then too, there have been several times I’ve almost drowned at work – which sort of undoes any progress …”

Hannah gave his hand a little squeeze and raised a brow, slightly amused, “So are you stubborn, masochistic, or just a lunatic?”  

He looked up quickly, his eyebrows knit together.  “Pardon me?”  A glower threatened his features as he snatched his hand out of hers.  “You’re not very good as the sympathetic listener are you!?”  

She rested her hand on his shoulder and didn’t back away.  “I’m very good at sympathy when it’s needed.  You just don’t need any right now.   You had a childhood trauma and faced a trigger tonight;  that requires empathy not sympathy.  Despite your fears, you were willing to risk yourself to help another; that requires admiration not sympathy.   Even though we’re both totally safe and fine, you’re still concerned about me; that requires gratitude not sympathy.   And when all is said and done, the high priced wilderness canoe guide you’ve hired fell off a dock on a clear, still night.  That requires laughter – and maybe a little embarrassment on my part – not sympathy.    So I probably should have said ‘thank you’ before I asked if you’re nuts.”   She patted his shoulder indulgently.  “But seriously Richard, why are you here if you’re so stressed out by water?”

He shrugged and gazed off into the distance.  “When you’ve meditated, studied, role played and tried talk therapy to overcome a silly fear it kind of becomes a bit of a mission to kick its ass.  I guess I can’t let it win.  One day, I will defeat it.”

She stood and rested her hands on his shoulders and smiled down at him.  “You’re a remarkable person.  You do have my empathy, admiration and gratitude.   Thank you Richard.”   She bent and lightly kissed his cheek.  “This is going to be the best water adventure of your life.  I promise.”

Richard wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his head against her chest.  When he looked up and saw the warmth and sincerity in her eyes, he wanted to hold her safe while her calm voice reassured him.   The warmth of a lovely woman standing between his thighs and resting her hands on his shoulders morphed from platonic connection to something much more heated,  and his longing to wrap her in her arms was not for comfort but for ... _No!  Don't go there!_

He slapped his palms on his knees and grimaced, “Well, from your lips to God’s ears.  Now, let’s see about dry clothes for you.  Why don’t you go into the loo and I’ll fetch some things from Neve? There’s a hair dryer for while you’re waiting, if you wish.”  He caught a flicker in her eyes as he left and wrote it off to discomfort in wet clothing.

Richard returned with warm, dry clothes for Hannah and went for a walk on the veranda while she changed, not wanting to be outside the bathroom door while she was naked in there. _Too near - just far too near._ He returned to find her sitting on the couch, combing her fingers through her tangled hair.

“Thanks for getting the clothes.  I appreciate it.”  Hannah smiled warmly, staring at him for a moment.

Richard returned her gaze and smirked when she looked away first.  “Can I get you something warm to drink?  I can probably coerce someone to make a cup of hot chocolate or tea or …”

“No thanks.  It’s okay.  I should be on my way. I’ve got a longish drive ahead of me.”  She said quietly, wondering if he would ask her to stay for just a few more minutes … or a few more hours.  _What would I say if he did?_

He stood on the spot, looking less decisive than usual.  “Yeah, right.  Yeah … okay.  Well, if you’re fit to drive?  I could drive you home if you ...?”

Hannah stood up and moved over to him, “Thank you, Richard.  You really are a gentleman under all that teasing, aren’t you!?  I’m fine, really.”  She hesitated for a moment and gave him a quick, patting on the back sort of hug before awkwardly scooping up the towel with her wet clothes in it, and walking to the door.  “G’night, Rich.  Thanks for everything tonight.”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah,  no problem. Glad to be of service.  You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”  She nodded and smiled.  “Okay, then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?

“Tomorrow.”  Hannah said more cheerfully than the moment called for and gave him a little wave as she left the room, closing the door behind her.     She leaned against the wall and sighed, looking at the door and wondering if she should knock.   _No.  That’s just not me, I don’t knock on strange men’s doors.  Not even for a cup of hot chocolate when it’s night and he’s just rescued me in a gallant, white knight sort of way._ She squared her shoulders and walked out of the inn, soberly reflecting on her inconvenient scruples.

The hour drive felt much longer than that to Hannah, who had to continually slap her leg or roll down the window to sing at the top of her lungs to keep from falling asleep at the wheel.  She almost teared up when she finally saw the lovely ‘Welcome to Dwight’ sign.  Surely she couldn’t have made it another two minutes without nodding off.   Thankfully she did arrive home safely and promptly collapsed into her cozy bed, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

 

Hannah woke before the alarm and luxuriated in a relaxed rising.  One shower and yummy green smoothie later and she felt like she could conquer the world.   She’d have to get back into her Beluga wetsuit but otherwise comfort was the order of the day.   Happily donning her favourite skinny jeans and a soft cotton sweater she tied her thick brown hair into a quickie messy bun and was ready to tackle the challenges awaiting her.  

Her half hour drive to work went by in a blur, her thoughts consumed with Richard.  In less than 24 hours he puzzled, tempted, taunted, infuriated, embarrassed, rescued and befuddled her.   _Movie schmovie_ , she couldn’t care less that he was apparently some kind of movie star (she still didn’t know what she’d seen him in, if anything).  But the way his eyes lit up and clouded, the way one side of his mouth quirked or sagged, the way he held his body when he was relaxed or stressed, his humour and intelligence and ability to put others before himself … well those things were worth thinking about and caring about.    Recognizing that she might like to further think on him was a pleasant surprise as it had been quite some time since anyone had entered that rare echelon of Men Who Sparked an Interest.     What a waste, as was too often the case in her line of work, she’d met someone intriguing but they were just passing through. 

She arrived at AO and went about setting things up for the day, humming a nondescript tune and puttering away on autopilot. 

“And why is your head in the clouds, or need I ask?”  Tara was leaning against the door jamb smirking at her colleague. 

“Hmmm?  Whassat?  What did you say, Tar?”  Hannah looked up at Tara, ready to take on whatever bizarre assignment her boss might have for her.

“Oh I don’t need anything.  Well nothing other than a little clue about your evening last night.”  Tara waggled her eyebrows and hoped Hannah would provide some juicy tidbits.

“You were there.  You know exactly how my evening was.”  Hannah ducked her eyes and hoped Tara didn’t see her cringe.   Of all the people in the world, it was Tara who she least wanted to know that she fell into the lake.   It made no sense because Tara was her biggest fan, but she simply didn’t like looking like a klutz in front of her ... that and she knew Tara was likely to do the sly tease for months to come.

“Oh, I know about dinner.  What about after dinner?   After Neve and I left?  How about that part?  Hmmmm?   You know.  When you and the handsome man himself were alone together.   How about then?”   Tara rubbed her hands together in gleeful hope of sweet details.

Hannah mumbled “I fell in the lake.”  

“Huh?  He’s a little fake? What?”   Tara stopped and stared at Hannah.

“I fell off the dock.”  She grumbled

“Wait!  What?  What did you do to his cock?  HANNAH!  Start talking, girlfriend!!”  Tara grabbed Hannah by the shoulders and shook her.

“I FELL OFF THE DOCK INTO THE LAKE, OKAY?!?!?!?”  She shouted and turned crimson.

Tara snorted and tried very hard not to laugh in Hannah’s face.  “You. Fell. In?  YOU?  Miss Bronze Cross whoop-dee-doo Lifesaving Society Member?  YOU fell off a dock?  Oh you incredibly wonderful klutz.   Did you pull Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome in with you for a little bit of water sport?  Are you two going to be little rabbits on this trip?   You’re just full of surprises Hannah!”   Tara snickered and poked Hannah in the sides.

“Ah – NO.  And just in case you didn’t hear the first time NO.  N-O spells NO.  Nada.  Zip. Zilch. Zero.   There was no funny business with THE CLIENT.   Have I ever fooled around with a client?” Hannah huffed. 

“Well … now that you mention it.  No, you haven’t.  But then again, in the three years you’ve been working here I don’t think you’ve fooled around with anyone.   Hmmmm, maybe you SHOULD fool around with Mr. Yummy Bummy.”  Tara chortled. 

“Yummy Bummy?  What are you?  Five?   There will be no fooling of the ‘arounds’!”  Hannah shook her head and walked over to the paddle racks, avoiding Tara’s eyes as best she could.

 

“Oooooh but I think you’d like to do some fooling with his arounds.   C’mon Hannah – admit it.  You quite like Richard’s –“

“I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. HAVE. ANYTHING. TO. DO. WITH. RICHARD.  STINKING. ARMITAGE.”  Hannah shouted at Tara just as Neve and Richard walked in the door.

Neve gasped and Richard stood stock still.  The only indication that anything happened were the stormy lead grey clouds in his eyes. 

 


	6. Have a Nice Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's Pinterest board filled with the exact places they paddled, creatures they see, Hannah's camera, and tied canoes for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/oxtongue-lake/

“Um … sorry to have interrupted.  Tara, Hannah, I was just going to go on a coffee run to the Paddle Inn.  Would you care for a cup?  Neve?”  Richard asked all three but only looked at Tara and Neve.

“Sure  – double double please.”  Tara requested, stealing glances at Hannah.

“No thanks, Rich.  I had three at The Pines already and we certainly don’t want me to have a fourth.”  Neve tried to lighten the atmosphere.  “Four and I’ll be bouncing off the ceiling and no one wants _that_.”

“Um. Yes, I’d love a cream only.  I can come with you to help carry them?”  Hannah offered, wanting desperately to explain what he’d walked in on.

“That won’t be necessary.  I think I can manage.”  Richard turned on his heels and strode out.

“What was THAT?”  Neve demanded.

Hannah was pale as a ghost and rigid, repeatedly clenching and unclenching her hands. 

“I was teasing Hannah and she got a little frustrated.   How bad did it sound when you walked in?”  Tara hoped this was not going to make their week unbearably awkward.

“Well, let’s just say it was an effective end to any nonsense you and I were plotting last night.  Tara, I don’t think all the arrows in Cupid’s quiver could fix this.”  Neve turned to Hannah who slumped down in a chair with her eyes clamped shut.  “You okay Hannah?  If we'd known you had such a dislike for Richard we never would have left you with him last night.   I’m really sorry.   I won't do anything like that again, I’m so sorry.”

Hannah’s face scrunched up. “I _don’t_ dislike Richard, he’s a decent guy.    But I would appreciate it if neither of you would play matchmaker ever again.   He must think I’m a complete jerk and probably a crazed fan or something.”

“Well, I’d hazard to say he thinks _you_ think _he_ is a total jerk.   Why in the world would he think you were a crazed fan?”  Tara asked, looking at Neve who just shrugged her shoulders.

“I kinda kissed him.”  Her lips twisted into a grimace.  “Only a fan would do that to a movie star they just met, right?  Someone wouldn’t kiss an actor unless they were star struck, right?”

“You WHAT?   Hannah, you kissed him?   And you said you didn’t want anything to do with him.   I KNEW you were lying.”   Tara chided teasingly.

“No, no, no.  It wasn’t like that.  He was all sweet and kind when I fell in the lake and I just kinda leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  I … I didn’t think much of it at the time.   But he must think I’m some kind of lying, user, fan or something after walking in on my little outburst.  I’m all nicey-nicey to his face and then slam him behind his back.  Oh damn --”   Hannah groaned, flopped over and hung her head between her knees.

“Sometime today you just tell him what happened.  That’s all.  Just tell him that you were trying to make your insufferable friend shut the hell up.”  Tara gave Hannah an awkward side hug and swiped her hair from her eyes.  “It will all be okay Hannah Banana.  It’s not that bad.” 

Neve and Tara encouraged, cajoled and entreated Hannah to see the funny side of calling one of the sexiest men on the planet the most unappealing man on the planet.   Hannah wasn’t buying it and simply ignored them, going over and over in her mind what she might say to Richard to smooth things out.   On a personal level, she felt like shit for what must have surely hurt his feelings.  On a professional level,she was squirming because she had to spend the next ten days in very close quarters with him.  The shroud of awkwardness was pretty damn **_un_ ** professional and would make it freaking uncomfortable if she didn’t remove it.

Richard returned a few minutes later with three coffees and set them on the staging table.   He stepped back and leaned against the wall while sipping his, looking everywhere but at Hannah.

“Richard, can we go for a walk please?”  Hannah asked, holding her breath and praying she wouldn’t chicken out.  Confrontation nearly always sent her into an anxiety riddled tailspin but she couldn’t afford to do that on her very first trip as lead guide.

“Not necessary, I think.  Best to just move on, yeah?!   What’s scheduled for today?”  Richard dismissed Hannah’s attempt to apologize with a wave of his hand.

“Ahhh … you and Neve are going to practice swamping, righting canoes, rescues, and more work on your strokes.  This afternoon I believe you’re set to paddle over to Ragged Falls and maybe back to the beaver dams on the other end of Oxtongue Lake.  That’s what you had planned, right Hannah?”  Tara looked to her colleague.

“Mm. Yes.  Well, let’s get suited up.”  Hannah slipped out of the room and took more time than was necessary putting on her wet suit.   If she could have, she would have popped up a dome tent and hidden in it for the next ten days.

Neve and Richard practiced all the strokes and rescue techniques multiple times.   They had a respectable aptitude for canoeing  so they finished up their assignments relatively quickly, satisfying both Tara and Hannah that they had gained meaningful touring and safety skills.  Of course the morning’s work was not interrupted or delayed by the light hearted banter or competitive shenanigans of the previous day.   When everyone spoke _only_ when necessary the work tended to go a lot faster, which was good for efficiency but not so good for camaraderie or enjoyment.   As they were wrapping up, Hannah excused herself to load a daypack with drinks and snacks for their paddle to Ragged Falls.

With Tara being a stronger paddler than Hannah, they previously agreed that the paddling partners should be Hannah & Richard and Tara & Neve, in order to balance out strengths.  However, in order to alleviate some of the awkwardness, Tara suggested they swap partners for the trip to the falls, allowing Hannah to canoe with Neve.

With a crisp, bright sky and very little breeze, it was a glorious paddle to Ragged Falls and, because it was still early in the year, the flow was full and rushing.  It was a beautiful sight to see, and a beautiful sound to hear, the water tumbling and gushing over the smooth rocks.    No matter how many times she’d been there, Hannah always managed to take more photos, even if it was only with a little pocket camera or a cell phone.   

All in all, Neve and Richard were suitably impressed, although Richard was particularly quiet.    They paddled back to AO and completed their equipment care efficiently and without need for any instruction. 

Neve, being as sweet as always, continued to try to initiate conversation, “What should we do for lunch?  The gorp – Good Old Raisins & Peanuts trail mix -  and juice boxes were good, but I’m still hungry.  I bet you are too, right Richard?” 

“Sure.  Whatever the group wants.”  He lifted his shoulders in a ‘doesn’t matter enough to deserve a proper shrug’ kind of a way.

“Let’s go to The Moose Café in Dwight for lunch.  They serve hearty homemade soups and nice thick sandwiches.   You’re going to need the energy because we’ll do some racing on our paddle to the beaver dams …. and we don’t want you fainting on us.”  Tara teased.

“We can all go in my car.   It’s the black Toyota Highlander parked out in front of the kayak racks.”  Hannah stated flatly as she started for the door.

They piled into Hannah’s Toyota and made their way to The Moose for lunch.   It was only a twenty minute drive but because of the stilted conversation it felt more like 45 minutes.  Once they arrived, everyone but Hannah got out of the car.  

“I … um …I’m only a few minutes away from my house, I’m just going to run home for a minute and I’ll be back.  I’ll grab something to eat while I’m there so don’t wait for me.”   She slipped the transmission into reverse and spun a bit of gravel as she pulled out of the parking lot.

Tara and Neve looked at each other perplexed, uncertain what to do or say.  Richard squared his shoulders and marched into the restaurant.  Without Hannah’s presence their conversation eventually returned to the light hearted quips and easy camaraderie of the previous evening.

Hannah strolled into The Moose a little more than an hour later with fewer pinched lines around her mouth and more spring in her step.    “So how was lunch?  What kind of soup was on today?” 

“Well, they called it ‘Porcupine Stew’ but I’m pretty sure it was chicken with rice.  It was delicious; you should have stayed to have some too, Hannah.”  Neve’s eyebrows raised slightly in encouragement laced with trepidation. 

“Oh thanks Neve.   There were a couple of things I had to do at home and it was just a bonus that there was time to do it now instead of waiting until after work.”  There was less sparkle in her eyes but no less warmth in her voice as Hannah reassured her.

Once bills were paid and tips left, the four piled into Hannah’s car and headed back to AO.  Tara and Neve kept up a constant stream of conversation which tried to, but did not fully succeed in, drowning out the pregnant silence between Hannah and Richard.

With two day-packs loaded with snacks, drinks, p-cord, a map, a trowel, toilet paper and a first aid kit for each pair, they steadied their canoes at the docks.  Hannah was just about to get in the stern of Neve’s canoe when Tara spoke up.

“Since we’re putting in tomorrow we should get used to our partners’ styles.  Hannah you’re going to be paddling with Richard on the trip so you two might as well work out your rhythm this afternoon.  Neve and I will take this canoe.”  Tara spoke softly but with an underlying core of steel, making it clear that as ‘senior officer’ she’d brook no dissent even though she fully understood the awkwardness of her decree.  She inwardly sighed at the sad loss of a perfectly good double entendre which would have been hysterical the day before.

Anxiety coiled in Hannah’s belly.   She could feel the roiling bile snaking through her insides, souring her mood and destroying the hope she had of spending a nice afternoon on Oxtongue with Neve.    This level of tension was exactly why she’d left New York.   _Migraines and ulcers were supposed to be a thing of the past._   

“Uh oh.  One last pit stop before we head out.  Sorry, won’t be long.”  Hannah sprinted back to the store and slammed the door to the restroom behind her.  “ _Deep breaths, Hannah.  Nice slow breaths.  In through the nose, out through the mouth.  Visualize the beaver dams.  See the lily pads.  Feel the sunshine and breeze on your face.  Smell the pines and the water.  Hear the birds and the waves gently lap against the canoe.  Feel the tug of the water on the paddle with each stroke.  Breath old girl, just breathe._ ”

She didn’t have time for a full meditation but, with effort, she was able to get her heart rate and anxiety down.   On her walk back to the canoes she reinforced the positives:  there was gorgeous light; she had her Nikon 1AW1; and she’d be in the bow so there was no way she’d have to look at Richard.   She didn’t think she’d have to worry about making conversation because he clearly had nothing to say to her.

By the time she got to the dock Tara and Neve were out in the lake waiting for her to board her canoe.   Her lips twitched in a lame attempt at a smile as she looked to Richard, letting him know she was ready.  He bobbed his head once and held the canoe, just as they'd practiced, for Hannah to board. 

“Looks like Tara will take point.  We can just follow her but it would be good for you to check our progress on the topographic map so that you become used to reading topos.  Hannah spoke like a consummate professional without any indication of the chilly chasm between them.

Richard gave a grunt of acknowledgement and resumed his icy silence.    Hannah followed his lead and did not speak for the next hour.   At first it was hellish and the acid threatened to erupt in her throat again but the sun and water worked their quiet magic and soothed her battered nerves.    The simple repetition of paddle strokes stilled her mind better than all of the counting breaths she could take.   By the time they reached the tip of the lake, she was at peace with the universe, forgetting all about the friendship which ended before it began; forgetting about hurting the feelings of someone she liked; forgetting that she spoiled the amity of their trip with her crass (and not the least bit truthful) shouting spree.

Hannah held up her hand in the universal stop sign.  Holding her finger to her lips she made a quiet “Shhhh” and pointed to a small cove on their left.   There was a family of hooded mergansers swimming about in the sunshine, seemingly oblivious to human intrusion.  Richard and Hannah stilled their paddles, resting them across the gunwales as they watched the chicks splash and frolic with their mother.    Hannah carefully removed her waterproof camera from the pack and took dozens of pictures of the mini-flock.

It wasn’t long before a majestic male merganser joined the little family and Hannah’s excitement quadrupled.  The thrill of finding a complete family group so close, with good light, and her camera in her hand lit up her eyes.   When she turned to Richard to make sure he was seeing what she was seeing, her beaming smile thawed his reserve and he couldn’t help but smile back with equal pleasure.

He was entranced watching her.  A heavy weight lifted from her and she was surrounded by the glow of pure awe, her joy palpable and contagious.   He knew that feeling and had chased it for most of his adult life.   When he transcended the ‘here and now’ on stage or when the music flowed from his soul through his fingertips or when his hands painted exactly what his mind’s eye saw – those were moments of pure ‘rightness’.   He knew that awe and that joy and wondered if he looked as Hannah did when it happened to him.

The current wasn’t strong but it was enough to slowly drift them away from the ducks.  Richard quietly used the strokes he learned to keep them in place.   A draw here, a reverse there, an occasional small J stroke, or sweep, and he was able to maintain their position quite nicely.  

Watching Hannah shed a new light on things.  He found his pride was not wounded as much as he thought.   It was more a case of a heavy, lingering disappointment which left the sort of ache that caused his walls to go up.   Oh he was good at being the flirt, or the gentleman, or whatever a role called for.  Yes, quite good at those things.   But he was not good at managing the sting of disappointment which happened when hopes were dashed.   To want something, to find it within his grasp and to lose it was something he was decidedly not good at.  He became broody or full of self-loathing and despair.  _No, it was best not to want something when it looked like there was little hope of having it._

 _I hadn’t hoped for a relationship with Hannah, that was just silly, but there had been a banter which was great fun.  There was the potential of a friendship of sorts and the always amusing distraction of imagining “what if”._    There was no question in his mind, sometimes UST was as much fun, if not more than, an actual affair.   More often than not, the affair proved to be something of a lunch-bag let down.   The thought that he sometimes enjoyed the chase more than the catch flitted through his mind.   Whatever the case may be, Hannah dashed the possibility of silly fantasies and that signaled his walls to be raised.  Unrequited attraction would make him look like a git and feel like a loser, so he’d put paid to that.  _But there was no need to be a jerk about it._    No, he wouldn’t do that, it wasn’t in his nature.   He’d find a way to establish a pleasant working relationship, even if her complete and total rejection of him stung his pride just a bit. _Richard Stinking Armitage, indeed._

“Umm … hate to interrupt because this is lovely … but you said the canoes are never supposed to be far from each other and I can’t see Neve and Tara anymore.   Should we …” Richard hesitated.

“Hmmm?  Oh, yeah, you’re right.  Sorry, I got carried away.  We often see red and common mergansers but the hooded ones are kinda rare.”  Hannah flushed bright red, furious with herself.  The one thing she vowed to do, make sure Richard was safe in the water, and she’d broken her own safety rules.   _Shit._   That was not the way to instill confidence in her or the trip.  _Damn._   She was developing a long list of things which required forgiveness and restitution.  _Shit, damn!_   “So this is a lesson in how easy it is to forget and forego safety rules.   You’ve seen how quickly and unaware we were that we ignored an important safety practice,  but I’m really impressed that you noticed the error and went about correcting it.  Good work, Richard.  Very good.”  

Her praise shouldn’t have mattered.  He should have been concerned that the person responsible for keeping him safe was being irresponsible.  But it did, and he wasn’t.    It was nice to know that she didn’t consider him a total waste of skin.   Maybe thoroughly unappealing, she wouldn’t be the first, but at least he might have some merit as a human being.  _Good to know._  

Even though it was early June, lily pads had already taken over the shallows.  It always sparked Hannah’s imagination when she paddled through thick vegetation.  It resuscitated her inner child, bravely cutting a swath through the jungle with her razor sharp machete.  She was John Morton Stanley exploring the wild lands of Africa in search of Dr. Livingston.   Or she was carefully dipping her paddle in an effort to move forward without ripping the lovely lilies from their spot in the ecosystem.  Whichever worked best.

It wasn’t long before they caught up to Tara and Neve who were snacking on gorp and sipping from their Nalgene water bottles.   Tara raised her arm in the stop/silence gesture and pointed to the messy beaver lodge directly to their left.   After a minute or two Hannah spotted the beaver swimming towards its home with a long stick between its big teeth.   She grinned and pointed it out to Richard who was nodding so hard she wondered if he’d give himself an injury.  His eyes were as big as saucers and she wondered if perhaps she wasn’t the only one to experience child-like excitement on their little outing.

They watched the beaver swim to and fro with materials for his lodge before leaving him to his industrious endeavours and they continued paddling.  The lake narrowed to a creek and the canoes were quickly running out of sufficient water depth.   As Richard and Hannah began the maneuvers to come about, Richard gasped and held up his arm in the ‘stop’ gesture.   Hannah followed his line of sight to see a moose wading through the shallows, pausing to munch on the water grasses.  Hannah signaled Tara and Neve who silenced their paddles and watched with rapt attention.  The young bull was magnificent – they could see his glossy coat and hear his little snorts as he pulled grasses from the water and chewed them up. 

Even though they were at least 200 feet from the beast, Tara was not comfortable with how close they actually were.  The water was shallow enough for the moose to reach them with no difficulty if he chose to charge.  She was extraordinarily thankful that it wasn’t rutting season or she would have had the canoes hightail it out of there.  Tara was cautious as she enjoyed watching the incredible beast go about his daily foraging.   She looked for signs of anxiety and stress in the large animal and marveled at his creation.  For such an ungainly looking creature he had grace and poise, the thought of which made her snort because that was how she’d describe herself, except for the grace and poise part. 

Richard’s head snapped around in alarm when he heard Tara’s odd snort.  She dismissed his concerns with a smile and shake of her head, rolling her eyes at herself.   When she returned her attention to the animal it was obvious that her noise, and Richard’s sudden movement, had alerted the moose to their presence and made him wary.

“Shhh.  Be calm and move slow and smoothly.  It’s probably best we carry on now that he’s seen us.”  Hannah whispered to Richard.

“Can you take a picture before we go?  It would be incredible to have one, yeah?!”  Richard’s eyes and smile widened in a cheeky ‘please, please, please’ expression.

Hannah chuckled and nodded.   _Would it be possible to refuse anything to a grown man willing to look that innocent and silly?_   She thought not.  She quickly snapped several photos and slipped the camera back in its case before giving Richard the signal she was ready to carry on.

When they’d cleared the shallows, and were well on their way in open water, Tara and Neve caught up to them and they chatted excitedly.    Moose were certainly not rare, but it was still a thrill to come upon one that close, going about its business.

Spying a rocky promontory a little way ahead, Hannah suggested they have their race.   Competition fueled grins plastered their faces as they readied for the ‘mark, set, go’.   It was a fierce paddle but in all reality, it was no contest.  Richard, The Hulk, Armitage had the strength and power stroke to overwhelm the women’s efforts.  Much to their chagrin he would slow down enough to let them catch up and then dig deep and speed ahead.   When Tara and Neve finally crossed the finish line they begrudgingly offered their congratulations and Tara brought their canoe alongside Hannah’s.

Hannah took the bow rope off her canoe and attached it to the gunwale edge of the yolk, alarming Richard greatly as her fingers accidentally brushed his bum.  He had no idea what she was at but touching his arse was not on! 

She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed him jump but when he turned around with something akin to panic in his eyes she couldn’t help but grin.   “Don’t worry Mr. Glamourous Movie Star, I’m not going to molest you.  Just tying off the rope so we can make a flotilla.”  Hannah froze with instant regret at her choice of words.  It would have been acceptable friendly banter had the events of the morning not transpired, but they did, and her comment was in bad taste.  

His walls threatened to come up again but he remembered his goal of keeping things friendly and professional.   “Oh no worries.  Just thought it was a bug and I was going to have to kill it.   That would have been unfortunate.”  He grinned and was relieved to see her relax again too.  

“Yeah.  Unfortunate. “  She cocked her head and scrutinized him.  He was a puzzle, that’s for sure.  _Cold and remote one minute, funny and thoughtful the next._   “I … um … we’re going to tie off to Neve’s canoe. It’s a fun thing to do anyway but it’s also  good safety practice.  If something happened that one canoe wasn’t able to paddle properly, it’s a way of getting home.   Ready?”   She asked and admired his quick comprehension when he replied immediately with a nod. 

Tara used rope to tie their bows together and pulled another piece of p-cord out of the throw-bag to tie off their sterns.  With the two canoes secured, they practiced the ungainly process of figuring out how to coordinate types and strengths of strokes.  They went around in circles for a time because Richard overpowered them, then they drifted leeward, and eventually they figured out how to track a straight(ish) line.

“Another way to do this is to lash a big stick between each canoe’s stern thwart and one to the bow thwarts.  It works really well and for the most part is more stable than tying off with rope.   We’ve lashed a small tarp to paddles and used it as a sail before – now that is ridiculously fun if you’ve got some wind.  But before you go getting any ideas, that’s an advanced maneuver and we will **not** be doing it on this trip.   I made a promise to keep you safe, remember?!?!?!”

He made puppy dog eyes complete with forehead crinkles and pouted a little.   “Awwww. Please? Just a little canoe sailing?” 

“Ahhhh NO!!  Not even close.   Clearly it was a major tactical error to even mention it.”  She said with mock severity.  Melting at that hang dog expression just a little, she continued, “Well, I guess if you behave properly on this trip, I’ll take you canoe sailing next trip.”  She laughed.

He jolted.  She was inviting him back for another trip?  Maybe she didn’t think him to be such a manky bastard after all.  _Or … no._   It was more likely she was simply doing her job to encourage repeat customers.    He absolutely despised hope; it was the worst of all human emotions and should be abolished.  Certainly what Pandora released from the box was less evil than that which remained within.  It was the scourge of all mankind and there was nothing crueler under the sun.  _Hope made people think and do stupid, painful, foolish things._    He’d not make that mistake again – even if he had to remind himself of it a hundred times a day.  _No foolish false hopes, not for me!_

Determined not to spoil the easy amity they had regained during their paddle, he pasted a smile on his face and acted the happy guest.   She looked at him oddly a couple of times but otherwise accepted his cheery Englishman routine quite well.

They enjoyed the sun and the waves, well, ripples to be honest, and had a lovely paddle back to the AO docks.   Having washed and racked their canoes, Neve asked, “So when do we write this dreaded test?   I’d really like to get it over with.”

Hannah chuckled, “Well the good news is, you already have.   All of the chatter about canoeing and the trips to the Falls and to the beaver dams was your test.   You both passed with flying colours – you have great water safety, good strokes, excellent canoe knowledge, you’re really doing well.   If you’re game, we’re good to put in tomorrow morning right after a hearty breakfast.”

“YES!  It was beginning to feel like we’d never get going.”  Neve fist pumped the air.

Richard, however, was not quite so excited.  Certainly he was in better shape than he had been the previous day, but there was still a definite air of reticence about him.  Hannah laid her hand on his arm and whispered, “Don’t worry, you’re going to do great.   You have a real knack for this, Richard.  I’m not blowing smoke up your butt – I mean it.  I wouldn’t risk your life or mine by taking you out there if I wasn’t sure it would be a safe trip.  Have confidence!  You’re going to be fine.  I promised, remember?!”

He smiled down at her and stared at her hand on his arm.  _Why in hell’s name did she do things like that?   She was the worst kind of woman – sending confusing mixed signals all over the place. Calling me names one minute and giving me comforting little touches the next._    With a sigh he nodded and gave her a crooked half smile.   _Ah well, the proof will be in the pudding.  Great trip or not, it's to be done and that’s that.  Coming back in good health is preferable. Having a good time isn’t necessary._

“So … dinner?  The menu looked delicious this morning.   Tara, Hannah, will you join us tonight?”   Neve asked.

“Sure, love to.  We should make it an early night though, good sleep is very important before a trip,”  Tara, ever the den mother, added.

“Um … count me out.  I have some packing and things to do tonight.   But you guys have fun,”  Hannah mumbled and looked like the last place in the world she’d want to be was with them.

Richard’s head jerked around when she declined Neve’s invitation.  _Well I was right, then.  It was just a good employee trying to secure a repeat customer.  The sweet little hand on the arm gesture was going a bit overboard but at least I now know it wasn’t mixed signals, it was just good customer service._    _A tad above and beyond the call of duty, if you ask me_.

Tara was surprised by Hannah’s decline of the dinner invitation and frowned at Richard’s sudden chill towards her.  She thought they’d had a lovely afternoon and worked out the misunderstanding of the morning.  Apparently, and disappointingly, they had not.   With a big sigh Tara wondered how tense she’d be with having to paddle through the minefield of those two.

Hannah grabbed her purse from the staff room and glumly waved goodbye as she saw her three trip-mates making plans for an enjoyable evening together.  Without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for this chapter:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/oxtongue-lake/


	7. Garden Repairs, Whisky and a Little Mindless TV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 7:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-chapter-7/

Hannah normally enjoyed her drive home, appreciating the prettiest commute anyone could hope for.  However, it was one of the least enjoyable days she had in three years, with tension and anxiety at levels she thought she’d left behind when she left New York.   It didn’t escape her notice that the catalyst for this bout of stomach-lining-eating-acid was the same as the straw which broke the camel’s back in New York – embarrassing herself front of others because of a man.

She pulled into her garage and cursed herself for being distracted to the point of leaving the water sprinkler on at lunch time.  Her flower beds looked drowned and pathetic, which elicited a snort: _There is entirely too much drowning going on in my life_.   She threw her purse on the step and lumbered over to the tap.   Putting away the hose, she thought about the mess in her life - well if truth be told she _continued_  stewing about the mess, for she hadn’t ever truly stopped thinking about it.

Hannah’s mental health break at lunch time yielded no answers.  The whole thing seemed far too overblown and she was a prime contributor to the drama.  So she’d said she wanted nothing to do with Richard.  _So what?  There were children going to school without breakfast, surely the lack of fawning of one camping tour guide couldn’t make that much difference to a hot shot international celebrity._    The fact that her vehement distaste for said celebrity was, in all actuality, 100% false made her skin crawl.

With the hose coiled and hung back on its hook Hannah grabbed a bag of topsoil and used a trowel to sprinkle it over the eroded spots in her garden.

It was the warmth of his arm around her as he shepherded her safely off the dock.  It was the feeling inside when she stood between his legs, her hands on his shoulders, as she gave him a light little kiss on the cheek.  It was the way that her mind wouldn’t let go of the contradictions of the man.  In one day he hadn’t left her mind for more than a few minutes at a time. 

It was the pleasantly surprising awareness that when he left to get dry clothes from Neve, she’d wished he’d stayed.  The feel of his strong arm around her and his broad shoulders under her palms was much more intriguing than the slight tingle of his initial handshake.  Hannah wanted Richard.  She wanted him and she had vowed to never want anyone ever again.   That was something else she’d left behind in New York. 

The garden bald spots were as patched as they were ever going to be.   She tossed the empty bag into the trash can and went inside her small house.    Hannah stood at the sink of her bright little kitchen and resented the hell out of its cheerfulness.   Her head hung down as she rubbed the nape of her neck and she dropped her hand in frustration.  Hadn’t she seen Richard do the exact same movement?  Dammit, he wouldn’t let go of her mind even when her neck and shoulders were rigid with tension.   _Now I'm freaking copying him!_

She trudged over to the cupboard and stared at the selection of scotch on the shelf.  The acrid taste in her mouth was so strong she wouldn’t be able to appreciate the finesse of the Glenmorangie.  _But, dammit, I want something good._   Well that brought a snicker – she wouldn’t allow scotch which _wasn’t_ good into her house.   With a sigh she poured a couple of fingers of the Balvenie Doublewood.  She took a pull of the amber nectar and closed her eyes, its golden warmth cascading over her as the rich flavours washed away the bitterness of the day.   She closed her eyes and pictured herself in fields of heather and clover, the sun of the Highlands caramelizing the barley and sprinkling it with vanilla and marshmallows and marzipan and prunes and peaches and ….

The phone’s shrill ring interrupted her single malt reverie.   With a frustrated huff she set down her glass and went to find the blasted handset.   By the time she pressed ‘talk’ she was the unhappy recipient of nothing but dial tone.   _Dammit._

The missed call jogged her conscience.   She would be in the park interior for over a week and should make a few calls before she left.   The house and mail were all taken care of, but friends and family tended to get a little testy if she took off for ten days without as much as a ‘see ya later’.    She sipped on her scotch without the benefit of orgasmic fields of Highland heather fantasies as she talked to her parents and then her best friend, Missy.  Everyone else could stuff it, she didn’t feel like making nicey-nice.   She was still, even after the Balvenie and talking to her nearest and dearest, sad, confused and, dammit, pissed off.

If he’d just allowed her to explain and apologize there wouldn’t be this stupid cloud hanging over them.   If only he’d stop with the hot and cold – one minute the sweetest, warmest fellow in the world and the next he was [Mr. 40 Below and I Don’t Give a Fuck](http://youtu.be/tX6ggRByE8g). _  
_

 _Dammit, it was his eyes which were the problem.  He held every other part of him under strict control and gave little away, but his eyes … his damn eyes told so much if he let you see them._     She’d seen a laugh travel from his belly and light them up, she’d seen mischief make them twinkle, she’d seen fear sharpen them … and she’d seen her outburst drain all the colour and warmth from them.   From that moment on, he’d done his best to keep his eyes hidden from her and, except for a few minutes with moose and beavers, he’d been quite successful at it.  All afternoon he’d been exactingly proper, perfectly friendly but his eyes were closed off. 

Hannah wanted to go to The Pines for dinner again.  She would have sorely loved to join in the laughter and great food.  For professional reasons she _should_ have gone even if her personal reasons had her flying off on a barley induced fantasy to Scotland.  Dinner the night before a big trip was always a bonding experience.  It gave the paddlers something shared to talk about when their muscles started aching and the novelty of paddling wore off.   They could torture each other with descriptions of how delicious the steak was, knowing full well there would be none of that sort of delicacy for the duration of the trip; or tell a joke; or simply enjoy the pleasure of having gotten to know one another better.  Such dinners were a pleasure and provided a professional advantage.   She should be there to further test knowledge, albeit subtly, and to reassure Richard that he was going to be okay.

_Dammit._   He was the reason she should be there ... and he was the reason she wasn’t.   She’d stepped up to the plate and tried to speak to him a couple of times despite near crippling anxiety and the bastard wouldn’t hear her.   There was no way in hell she’d be able to reign in her nerves for a whole evening so there was no way she could join them for dinner.  No matter how much better the fare at The Pines was compared to the grilled cheese with ham she’d be having on her own, there was no way her stomach would tolerate the tension that sitting at a table with the Ice King would bring.   _Dammit._

A day and a half.  That was all.  She’d known him just a day and a half and he was wreaking havoc in her carefully crafted peaceful existence.  This was supposed to be a crowning moment in her new life and instead it had become a minefield riddled with anxiety and tension.  She should be toasting her first expedition leadership with her new crew instead of sitting in her living room all alone sucking on a scotch she could no longer taste and thinking about a pair of eyes that were lost to her.

..ooOOoo.. 

Dinner was delicious and the company was charming just as it had been before.   Of course it lacked the particular sparkle and warmth Hannah brought to the previous evening, but that was before he found out that her warmth was manufactured and her sparkle was fool’s gold.   

Richard smiled at all the right times and even managed to contribute to the conversation without sounding like an idiot.   Thus was the benefit of years of doing interviews where people would say something and he’d have to respond intelligently even when his mind was a million miles away or he was bored senseless.   He doubted he fooled Neve, but he was certain Tara was placated.   He worried that if the group dynamic was fraught with too much tension and she’d either foist them off onto other guides, or if it was bad enough, maybe even cancel the trip altogether.   Richard was not at all confident that Hannah would proceed with the trip and that bothered him more than he was comfortable with.

The thought of going into the park with anyone other than Hannah and Tara drove a spike of fear straight through him.   Their obsession with safety was reassuring – they would do nothing foolish or risky and they would keep him safe, of that he was certain.  Hannah may have been a wretch as a human being but he had full confidence in her ability as a wilderness guide. 

Richard felt like he had spent the day on a yo-yo string.   Walking in to AO: up.  Hearing Hannah’s disgusted tone as she dissed him: down.  Her wish to apologize: up.  His inability to listen: down.   Not drowning during the tipping and rescue practice: up.  Hannah not willing to paddle to the Falls with him: down.  Hannah not being able to bear his company for lunch: way down.  Seeing the animals on Oxtongue Lake: way up.  Hannah’s joy: way, way up.  Winning the canoe race with Hannah: up.   Hannah accidentally touching his bum: mostly down.   Hannah inviting him back for another trip:  way, way, way up.   Hannah touching his arm: up to the friggin’ moon.   Hannah’s obvious distaste at the thought of having dinner with him: down halfway to Hades.    Hannah tolerating him only as a paying customer and trying to generate repeat business: down past Hades and out the other side of the planet.

From the second they shook hands he was intensely aware of Hannah.  Her passion and focus had him enthralled; he loved seeing people do what they loved and she did it in spades.  He appreciated her keen eye for human behavior, amused that he couldn’t fool her.   He’d had no intention of acting the scared school boy but she figured it out anyway.  The entire previous day she looked out for him without being even the slightest bit condescending or patronizing.  She had been sensitive and kind and he responded to her whether he wanted to or not.

Standing on the deck at The Pines opened up something inside of him.   Sure, he knew it was sort of cliché, standing under the stars and thinking about kissing the pretty girl by his side, but then she fell in and he was compelled to act.   Without considering the implications, he was ready to dive in and save her, which was rather hilarious because she was no damsel in distress and if he jumped in, it would have been him who needed saving.

No matter her protestations that she was fine, she wouldn’t be until he could verify for himself.  He was driven to make sure she was!   He took her back to his room, which hours before would have been unthinkable but, given the circumstances, it was the only logical thing to do.   _Logic certainly hadn’t signed on for the whole evening.  There was nothing logical about the way I felt when Isaw her standing there with that wet dress clinging to her gorgeous curves or when she stood before me and kissed me right on the cheek._ Or maybe it was logical – if primitive imperatives could be called so.  Rifling through his suitcase trying to find something to give her to wear was simply masochistic.  The thought of her naked body inside his shirt and trousers did all sorts of unspeakable things to his imagination and to his body.   It was remarkably disappointing that she ended up wearing Neve’s things, he would have much preferred her in his pants – pun intended.   He wanted her.  He really, really wanted her.   And if he wasn’t mistaken – which it turned out he was – she wanted him too.  He would have sworn an oath that he saw it in her eyes.  

He had gone to bed amused, surprised, confused and more than a little frustrated.  Visions of wet green knitted cloth draping her luscious body … if he hadn’t been so weary, he’d have made use of those visuals.  As it was, he quickly fell asleep with a happy feeling of anticipation and woke with the same.  He couldn’t wait to get to AO to see her but as fate would have it, he wished he _had_ waited or maybe it would have been better to wish he’d never met her in the first place. 

He excused himself from dinner not long after they were finished eating, begging their pardon and making excuses of needing an early night.   He went to sleep with lines and passages from North and South rattling around in his head and invading his dreams.   _She doesn’t love me, Mother.  She will not have me.  No one loves me but you, Mother.   I am in no danger from her._ He’d never be able to say that was the best night’s sleep he ever had.

..ooOOoo..

Hannah, being the marvel of efficiency that she was, had everything on her checklist done by 8:00 pm which was too late to go out and too early to go to bed.  She fussed and grumbled until she made peace with watching tv.   That turned into a giant frustration because there was absolutely nothing on to catch her interest.   She tried to read but her concentration was shot so she padded around her house fretting at the fireplace, chastising the front window, and complaining to the couch.   She didn’t want to get sucked into the computer and waste a million hours surfing but there was nothing else she felt like doing so she made the executive decision to muck around online for a while.   

In a flash of inspiration she decided to Google Richard, which was surely justified since they were going to be in each other’s pockets for the next week, or so she rationalized.    Hannah was blown away by what she found – the man was a bona fide movie star!  She’d even heard the kids on her last trips talking about some of the movies he was in, and they were _big_ movies!   _He sure didn’t seem like a movie star, whatever they were supposed to be like.   He was so down to earth and warm and funny when he wasn’t being The Iceman Cometh!_ Curiosity piqued, Hannah wanted to watch something he was in.

The pickings were complicated.  There were either long movies or long series and she didn’t have time or the inclination for either.   Looking at his career bio,  she had to go back to 2006 to find something short(ish) which she had access to.   The Vicar of Dibley had been on TVO for years and she’d caught several episodes so thought that was a good choice.   She pulled up The Handsome Stranger episode on Netflix and settled herself in for what she hoped would be a thoroughly enjoyable hour.

She was right, it was a thoroughly enjoyable hour.   She went to bed chuckling at Geraldine and Harry, thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to have a Harry in her own life.   A nice handsome stranger to sweep her off her feet.   Her subconscious must have agreed because all night long she dreamt of Harry Kennedy and Richard Armitage and kisses with tongues and happily-ever-afters.


	8. Stormy Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest Board for Chapter 8:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-8/

Hannah woke with a dull throbbing behind her eyes.   With a groan she rolled over to look out her bedroom window and groaned again at the dull grey light trickling in.   She knew, even before the weak light sliced daggers into her eyes, that a storm had rolled in.  Tree branches creaked and swayed in the wind and it was only a matter of time before rain pelted everything under the sky.    _Dammit._   Unless she was very much mistaken, and the distinctive flavour of pain marinating in her head said she wasn’t, there would be no excited start to their trip quite yet. 

After letting rip a volley of colourful curses, Hannah flipped open her computer and brought up the Environment Canada webpage.   _Dammit._   Sure enough, there was a low pressure system blanketing Ontario with promises of high winds and moderate rain.   The rain was no big deal, anyone could paddle through rain, but the wind?  Now that was another story altogether.  There was no way on God’s green earth, or azure blue lakes, that she was taking anyone out in wavy waters.    Hannah paddled Lake Opeongo in two foot swells, and while there was a certain adrenalin thrill to it, it was certainly not for novices and not even something for experts to intentionally seek out. 

They’d have to go with Plan B, which wasn’t terrible, but she wanted to get out on the water for a whole slew of reasons.   “No Regrets” had been her mantra for three years and she wasn’t about to cash it in.  She would deal with the ‘Richard situation’ come hell or high water, and it looked like the water was rising so it meant she’d probably have to go through hell to take care of it.   By the time Mr. Nice but Closed Off went back home, she’d have explained, apologized and been forgiven, dammit.  _No regrets._

Since they would be choosing Plan B for the day, her wardrobe and pack choices changed considerably.   She pulled out a battered pair of Omega hiking boots and her old Hydrofoil pants and stood in front of her closet trying to figure out what to throw on the rest of her body.   Hannah smirked at the selection in front of her.   _My, my, my how things had changed.   Instead of rag and bone or Prada there was Mountain Equipment Coop and Columbia.   No more Jimmy Choo’s but plenty of Merrell and Timberland._    Her Fox 40 whistle on its bright green cord replaced her Tiffany necklace which was just fine by her.  She had been asked, and did wonder, if she’d ever miss her Christian Laboutin’s but she never did.   All she needed for a fashion boner was for someone to mention Canada Goose.   She oooed and awed over North Face as much or more than she did over M Missoni and she definitely oooed over M Missoni.   Which reminded her, hopefully her Missoni green dress could be restored after its dip in the lake.  

Bored with fashion musings, she grabbed a black MEC lightweight merino sweater and pulled out the basket of hiking socks, fishing around until she found her favourite PhD smartwools.   She snorted at the fashion statement she’d make: black sweater; grey pants; red jacket; and brown socks.   But she’d be comfortable and dry!   Aww, what the hell, she had a pair of black Hydrofoils which would take her mismatched colour count down by one.  Granted they had a patch on the inside of one leg where she had gotten caught on a mutant branch, but it wasn’t _that_ noticeable.

Hannah grabbed a pair of leggings, her Doc Martens and her stripy black and white Betsey Johnson dress, just in case.   _‘Oh what the hell’_ was the order of the day so she said it again and figured she might as well toss a brush and her makeup into the bag too because “go big or go home” seemed like good advice.

She had an hour before she was supposed to meet the gang at AO.   She made a breakfast pita pizza and savoured a second cup of coffee, happy for the Advil working its magic on her headache.  The hatches were battened down: windows and doors shut and locked; patio chair cushions tossed in the garage; there was a little bit of garbage which, double bagged, would fit in the old freezer until she returned; and otherwise things were in pretty good shape.   She’d be able to do another walk through in the morning, assuming they’d be able to leave the following day, but all in all, her home was in decent order to be left unattended for a week.

She stowed her change of clothes in the back of the Toyota and plugged her iPod into the jack, blasting Great Big Sea’s [Ordinary Day](http://youtu.be/mW3Wp7SH3JI) for all and sundry to hear.    She grinned and sang (shouted?) along, bouncing in her seat and shaking her head to and fro.

 _I've got a smile on my face, I've got four walls around me_  
_The sun in the sky, the water surrounds me_  
_I'll win now but sometimes I'll lose_  
_I've been battered, but I'll never bruise, it's not so bad_  
  
_And I say way-hey-hey, it's just an ordinary day_  
_and it's all your state of mind_  
_At the end of the day, you've just got to say,_  
_it's all right._  
  
_Janie sings on the corner, what keeps her from dying?_  
_Let them say what they want, she won't stop trying_  
_She might stumble, if they push her 'round_  
_She might fall, but she'll never lie down_

 _And I say way-hey-hey, it's just an ordinary day_  
_and it's all your state of mind_  
_At the end of the day, you've just got to say,_  
_it's all right._  
  
_In this beautiful life, but there's always some sorrow_  
_It's a double-edged knife, but there's always tomorrow_  
_It's up to you now if you sink or swim,_  
_Keep the faith and your ship will come in._  
_It's not so bad_  
  
_And I say way-hey-hey, it's just an ordinary day_  
_And it's all your state of mind_  
_At the end of the day, you've just got to say_  
_it's alright_

[The Night Pat Murphy Died](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7Bsb-8pxG8) and [The Old Black Rum](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fudwJZhiYxk) garnered as much enthusiasm as Ordinary Day but when [Run, Runaway](http://youtu.be/8UMV36zYs58) came on as she pulled into the AO parking lot she went berserk.    She cranked the volume louder still and expertly performed championship level thrashing as she sang at the top of her lungs.   There’s no way she could have heard another car pull in even if she was listening for it.  

Richard and Neve climbed out of the rental car and immediately stared at Hannah’s car in shock.    They exchanged fleeting glances and turned back to the Toyota which was having a shaking and rocking seizure.

“I never would have pegged her for a head banger.”  Neve snickered.

Richard shook his head in bewilderment, “Nor I.” 

When the song ended Hannah spilled out of the door still singing and bopping until she saw Neve and Richard.   She clapped her hand over her mouth so hard and fast Richard winced.   Her eyes bugged out for a moment before she laughed.  “Busted.  Guess my secret’s out.  I sing in the car.”

Richard squinted and shook his head at the weirdo before him who bore no resemblance whatsoever to the efficient, serious minded wilderness safety guru of the previous two days.

“No need to bring your packs in.  We won’t be going paddling today.  C’mon and we’ll get ready for Plan B.”  Hannah chirped and virtually skipped into the store.   She spotted Tara in the footwear section and bounded over to her.  “Tara Tara bo bara, fee fi fo fara, Tara.”

“Lemme guess, Great Big Sea?  Which was it this time?  Ordinary Day or Run, Runaway?”  Tara rolled her eyes mid-smirk.

“Both … and hey, how did you know?” 

“Seriously?  There are only three things that make you do the name game:  Chocolate and Great Big Sea.”  Tara continued to smirk.

“That’s only two.  What’s the third?”  Hannah asked.

“I’m guessing it’s sex.”  Tara laughed but stopped suddenly when Hannah turned ashen.

Hannah’s face twisted into a perfect mask of panic.   Her eyes flicked back to the door just as Mark, Richard and Neve strolled in.  With just her eyes and the threatening set of her lips, Hannah effectively communicated her dire need for Tara to immediately _shut the hell up_.

Tara ducked her head and had the good sense to look contrite, “Oooops.  Ah … hi guys.  Did you have a good night after I left?”  

Hannah closed her eyes and stood taking long, slow breaths to calm herself.  In her head she chanted, “ _In through the nose, out through the mouth.  They didn’t hear anything.  I didn’t say anything bad … this time.  In through the nose, out through the mouth.  ‘sall good._ ”

“It was good.  Quiet.  I had a little scribble about Tom and read for a bit.”  Richard looked to Neve for her report.

“Yeah, quiet.  I called home and talked to JJ and Cas for about an hour and then went to sleep.”  Neve looked to Hannah and Tara and waffled on asking Hannah what she did the night before, thinking it probably wasn’t a good idea to bring it up since it was part of The Awkward Day.   “So, Hannah says we’re not starting our trip?”

Hugely relieved to be on solid ground again, Hannah chimed in, “Sorry about that guys.  There’s a low pressure system passing through and it’s making the water too rough.  Getting a bit soggy on a hike is ok, swamping a canoe in three foot swells isn’t.  Well, atleast in my books.  We can, however, go hiking and wander along the Highway 60 corridor.  There are lots of things which are relevant to Tom Thomson, so it won’t be a waste of your time.”  Hannah smiled at their clients and then looked to Tara, “I thought we’d do the Track and Tower Trail and then the Visitor Centre.  Sound good?”

“Perfect.  I haven’t been up T&T this year and I hear they’ve built a new fire tower display at the V-Centre.  You have maps and packs ready?”   She asked Hannah.

“Not yet.  Thought we’d let Thing 1 and Thing 2 put it all together.”   Hannah teased.

“Hey, I resemble that remark! The important question is – who is 1 and who is 2?”  Richard pursed his lips together and pulled a very serious, sour academic sort of a face but wasn’t able to hold it and cracked into a grin.

 _There they were: those eyes that crinkled and twinkled when he was having fun._    Maybe there would come a time when she’d be allowed to see them just as a matter of course and not because he was having a laugh with others.

Hannah held up her hands in surrender, “I’ll leave that to you two to hash it out.  So, let’s go into the staging room and we can grab a couple of day packs.   You have your whistles and Swiss Army knives, right?”  Hannah was pleased to see to heads nodding.

“What sort of trail is it?”  Richard held up a daypack and looked around the shop at the things that might be handy.

“It’s a 7.7 kilometre trail with mixed elevation and terrain.  It’s tough on beginners but you two should do okay with it.   It usually takes about 3 ½ hours with a short snack break and sightseeing.  How does that impact your pack?”  Hannah smirked as she tried to stump him.

“A tougher hike needs more hydration.  Protein and complex carb snacks.   First aid kit.  Maps.   A macintosh …. or rain poncho?  Yeah, we’ll need some of that.”  He tried to hide his smugness but it just didn’t work.  The smug was sitting there right behind his smile and Hannah desperately wanted to wipe it right off. 

“All right Mr. Smartypants.  You’re quite the show off today, aren’t you?  You know, going to the head of the class has its perks and its burdens.  Neve, Tara and I are going to go look at hats and tee shirts and pretty coloured rope while you load the packs for us.   Come join us when you’re done.”  Hannah snickered and linked arms with Neve and Tara.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?   I see.  I see.  I get the picture.  Well, if you’re quite certain you should trust me with your pack, that will be on you, yeah?!”  Richard dipped his head and looked through his lashes with a bold dare in his arched brow.

 _Cocky bastard. Oh Lord, it’s so good to see his humour back.  Please, please, please let him be a cocky bastard all frickety fracking day_ ,Hannah said in silent prayer and was delighted things seemed to be turning around.

Richard along with Mark, joined the women in the casual clothing area and he was only slightly concerned when they looked at him, whispering and tittering amongst themselves.    _Yeah, there was a definite estrogen – testosterone imbalance in the group._

“We have a present for you Richard, our way of saying thanks for taking care of the packs for us.  Here you go.”   Hannah handed him a tee shirt bound up with multiple pieces of coloured cord.

“Thank you?”  He unwrapped the shirt as if it might contain hidden rattlesnakes or poisonous tree frogs or razor blades or … he laughed and shook his finger at them.

“Um … yeah.   Thank you?   I think.   Mark is there something I should know about this hike?  I sort of don’t trust this lot.”  Richard clapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders and turned his back on the women.  “I don’t fancy becoming bear food – what do you think Mark?  Are they going to do me in? Am I Algonquin fast food?”

“Nahhhhhh.   Tara and Hannah are all bark and no bite.  They wouldn’t hurt a fly.  In fact I’ve seen Hannah stop her car to move the baby frogs off the road and no one else in the world would do that.  She’ll make sure you don’t get eaten.”  Mark winked at Hannah.

“Awww maaan.  Thanks for ruining my rep, Mark!  He was just starting to feel the fear, now I’m gonna have to scare the crap out of him all over again.   Grrrr, I’m tough.  Be afraid, be very afraid.   How’s that?  Are you properly worried I’ll do unspeakable things to you and leave your body to be consumed by bears?” 

Hannah froze and turned pink at her silly double entendre. She stole a glance at Richard who was vigorously scraping his thumbnail with his index finger and hardly containing a stupid grin.  Her cheeks?  What _was_ pink turned red and that was the last straw, Richard threw his head back and laughed out loud.  That was good, at least he was laughing at her instead of glowering or freezing her out.

Richard paused for a moment and looked at Hannah, and thought it couldn’t all be an act.  She simply wasn’t that good.  There’s no way she could _make_ herself blush and dammit, she kissed him in his room.  Maybe she didn’t want to like him.  Maybe his job and the complications it brought to the party were just too much for her.   Maybe she didn’t want to like him but she did anyway.   _Hmmmm.   Yeah, that made more sense._

“I am absolutely terrified.  Shaking in my boots.  More afraid of them than the bears.”  Richard pointed to the two AO guides, grinned and – bloody hell – he winked at Hannah. Now that was not on the agenda.  Her eyebrows shot up but she smiled back so perhaps he hadn’t gone overboard after all.  “So, what’s the plan for today again?  Hike this morning and a visitor’s centre this afternoon?  What about the bad weather?  And what if it’s still bad tomorrow?”

“Whoa, slow down there Mr. A.R. Wait – AR, RA.  Ha!  Anal Retentive Richard Armitage.  ARRA.   I like it.”  She snickered a little and when she saw his scowl she snickered a lot.   “So, to answer your questions: yes; yes; don’t know; and cross that bridge when we come to it.  Anything else, dear ARRA?”

“NO! No questions.  And ARRA? That’s just ridiculous.  Anyone who knows me could tell you I’m not AR.  I’m really sort of messy.”   He gave her his best “I’m so done with you” look which only amused her more.

“Ah huh.  You keep talking, someone, somewhere will believe you.   No one here, but somewhere else maybe …  Ok, let’s get to the car before ARRA here starts fretting about our schedule.”  Hannah winked back at him and all the remaining tension she’d been carrying drained away.  _This was the way the trip was supposed to go, silly banter and too much dumb laughter.  Not the stressed and strained crap of the day before._

Hannah gave a copy of their itinerary to Mark and the four paddler-slash-hikers piled into Hannah’s Highlander, taking off for the Track and Tower Trail.   It was a little less than 40 km so Hannah occupied them by trying to stump Richard, which was proving to be amusingly difficult.

“Okay Mr. Smartypants.  Give us the Reader’s Digest condensed version of Algonquin Park history.”  Hannah challenged.

“Well.  It was originally hunting and fishing grounds for the Anishinaabe people.  It became quite the popular logging area and in 1893 it was named the first provincial park in Upper Canada.  Since 1983 there’s been an ongoing land claim with First Nations.  It’s about 7700 square kilometres, has over 2400 lakes and 2000 kilometres of canoe routes.  It’s a National Historic Site and two famous artists have died there – our Tom, of course, on Canoe Lake in 1917 and Ken Danby on North Tea Lake in 2007.  What else do you want to know?   I’ve read several books and can tell you all sorts of thing about the Anishinaabe, logging, the railroad, wildlife, bird migrations, you name it …”   Richard’s lips twitched and he did the equivalent of strutting while sitting in a car.

“Well I see your title is undisputed.  Mr. Smartypants.  So how about the reason you’re here in the first place.  What do you know about Tom Thomson?”  Hannah taunted him.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific.  I’ve got 40 Thomson years to talk about plus a legacy and a mystery.”   Richard doubted she had any idea what, or more specifically who, she was asking.  He had two full and three partial notebooks filled with facts, ideas, notes and thoughts about Tom and he could go on for days about the man.

“Ah huh.  Got it.  How about a little high stakes challenge to make things interesting?”   She tossed the idea out casually, a little too casually he thought.

“And may I ask the challenge and the stakes?” 

“Certainly.  Fast Facts.  Stakes to be named later.”  She grinned.

“And what are Fast Facts?”  Richard was intrigued.   He looked at her with a gleam in his eye.  _This.  This was the girl on the dock.  Bright, brave and sort of saucy.   I hope this girl sticks around._

“At any time today I might say ‘Fast Fact’ and you have to give us a piece of Tom Trivia.”   She glanced in the rearview mirror to see him nod.

“Sounds easy enough.   And the stakes, will you give a clue?”

“A clue?  No.”    She was alarmed as Richard began to cough and choke.  “You ok there Sir Chokes A lot?”    Tara pounded him on the back as his fit intensified.

“Are you taking the piss or what?”  He managed to choke out.

“Huh?  What are you talking about?”  She glanced in the mirror again, mystified.

“The Hood references.  Nicely done, by the way.”  Richard sputtered.

“Ummm.  Still no idea what you’re talking about.”  Her brows were knit together in confusion.

“Oh come now.  Vaisey’s tag line and Sir Guy.”  He rolled his eyes at her.

“Yeah … not helping."

“Robin Hood.  Big role.  You quoted Vaisey and mocked my character’s name.”  Eye roll number two.

“Errr.  Don’t hold this against me, ‘kay?”

“Okay … I guess.”

“I’ve never seen Robin Hood.   Sorry.   So whatever you think I’ve said …”  She waited for his reaction. 

“Oh.  Well aren’t I the poncy tosser?!   You sort of get used to people knowing your cv when they’ve had warning they’re going to meet you.   Sorry Hannah.  Lord, you must think I’m insufferable.”   He chewed on his lip.

“Pfffft.  You’re less of an egomaniac than Sammy.”  She tutted.

“Sammy?” 

“The goldfish on the counter in the store.  You’re not as puffed up as he is.”  She chuckled.  He was the most modest man with the most reason not to be.  It was pretty nice how he was ‘just one of the guys’. 

“Oh, it’s like that then?  I’m a cold fish?   I see.  I see.  I get the picture.”  He thought he scored a point when her eyes flashed.

“Yeah well, you’re going to have to do better.  This’s the second time you used the same Pythonism and that is simply not acceptable.  Throw in a little Spanish Inquisition or some dead budgies flying out of people’s lavatories, or at the very least a Bruce or two.”  Hannah chided.

“You like the Philosopher’s Song?”

“Awww, puh-lease Bruce.  I LOVE the Philosopher’s Song.  Bet you don’t know all the words.”  She teased.

“Wot?  Monty Python is mother’s milk to us.  We Brits are weaned on it!”  He was thoroughly pretend-insulted.

“Oh yeah?  Prove it.”   She snickered at how easy he was.

Richard proceeded to sing the entire Philosopher’s Song and what had started out as a teasing on Hannah’s part immediately turned into teasing of a different sort on Richard’s.   He had a lovely speaking voice, certainly, but she was not prepared for his singing voice _.   Holy crap on a cracker.  That man could SING._   His deep, rich, melodious baritone thrummed through her leaving tingles and shivers she could not have anticipated.

Her voice cracked as she tried to speak, “Yeah that was okay.  What about the Lumberjack Song?”   Everything and everyone else ceased to matter.  She wanted to hear that voice again.  Oh she wanted to record it and listen to it reverberate throughout her body as she –

“Pfffft.  Silly woman.  The more important question is: do _you_ know all the words to the Lumberjack Song?”

“Um Yeh!  Oh, oh I see what you’ve done there! You’re doing a payback and are gonna make me sing, hmmm?” 

“Well … the thought had crossed my mind.”  He wiggled his left eyebrow at her even though she couldn’t see it.

She could hear the grin in his voice without even looking in the rearview mirror.  “Yeah, well get used to disappointment cuz that ain’t ever gonna happen.”

Tara and Neve were happy to sit back and listen to the banter until then.  But forcing Hannah to sing was too much of a treat so they joined the fray.

Hannah dug in her heals.  There was no way on heaven or earth she was going to sing a single, solitary note after listening to Richard’s dulcet voice.   She would, however, think of a way to get him to sing again and as many times as possible.

“Okay children.  We’re here.  Oh, and FAST FACT.”  Hannah shouted to Richard as she got out of the car.

“Oh ... um … from 1914 to 1917 Tom spent the spring and fall sketching, and acted as a Park guide and fire ranger during the summer.”   Richard offered.

“Good.  Basic stuff, but good first effort.  I’ll expect better as we go along though.”   She laughed as he scowled at her.

“Pffft.  Basic?  I think not.  You still haven’t named the stakes!   What do I get when I win?”  He asked.

“Ha.  IF you win.  I have something in mind but **_if_** you win, it’s gonna be a surprise.”  Hannah giggled, knowing exactly what his prize would be.  She liked it so much he’d get it as a consolation prize even if he didn’t win.  “And what do I get when I win?  Hmmm?”

“Oh.  Umm.”  He looked over at the Park sign to hide his face from view.   His very red face.  All the graphic details of what he he’d like to give her flashed through his mind the second her question was out of her mouth.   He croaked, “I’ll … umm … do the washing up on the trip?”

“Oh Sweetheart.  Try again.  You’ll be doing the ‘washing up’, as you call it, anyway.”  Hannah teased.

“Well … um … what do I have that you could want?”

It was Hannah’s turn to inspect something, other than her companions, in great depth.  He had something precious she wanted very much indeed.  She shifted uncomfortably and tugged down her pant leg, pulling a face at Tara and Neve who were whispering to each other.

“Those two need to get a room.”   Tara snickered into Neve’s ear.

“Ha.  I don’t think they can wait that long.  I bet they ‘get lost’ for a while today.”   Neve giggled back.

“Yeah, Cupid’s back in business.”   Tara developed her own case of the giggles.  What was it about sexy stuff that reduced grown women to giggling, snickering adolescents?

“So what does winning mean?”  Tara turned back to Neve and used her tongue to poke out the inside of her cheek in a distinctive pattern making Neve swat her on the arm.   Tara wiggled her eyebrows at Neve and made ecstatic orgasmic faces while she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue.

“Stahp it.”  Neve hissed under her breath.

Tara quietly made a slurping sound and demurely used her finger to wipe an imaginary mess from the corners of her mouth. 

“What are you two on about?  You’re making me very nervous over there.  What schemes are you hatching?”  Richard asked.

Neve wasn’t able to speak coherently so Tara answered for both of them, “Oh nothing.  Just talking about being hungry and finding something to gobble down.”   Neve threw her hands up in the air as she turned to jog down the path away from Tara.

“Ah, well there’s some gorp /was thinking you might want to explain what gorp is for those who don’t know/ and cheese and apples in the pack if want to have a snack …”  Richard suggested.

“Oh no, no.  I’m fine.  I was just telling Neve that Hannah looks like she’s just starving for something to eat.  You’ve got quite an appetite, eh Hannah?”   Tara looked to Hannah with wide, innocent eyes.

“Ummm … I guess.   Tara, you’re weird.  Now let’s get this show on the road.  Those hills aren’t going to hike themselves.”  Hannah shook her head at Tara’s peculiar behaviour and tucked her wallet and camera into one of the daypacks before she shrugged it on. 

The grey clouds hung low in the sky, heavy with unshed rain.   It was dark under the canopy of tall pines, the path a dark streak cutting through the forest, weaving its way up, down and over rocks left behind by glaciers bigger than the province. 

Richard tugged a Track & Trail guide from the exterior pocket of the pack on Hannah’s back and paused to read the information provided for Post 1, in front of which they were standing.  Only a few words were spoken before he viciously slapped his face.  He picked up speaking where he left off and _thwack_ , another brutal slap, this time on the back of his neck.

“The mosquitoes are pretty nasty today.  You didn’t pack bug juice by any chance, did you?”   Hannah’s prayer hands wobbled with hope.

“Yeah.  Thank Mark for that.  Here, let me fetch it from the pack.”  He pulled out his Tilley hat and a bottle of Watkins Insect Repellent.   “I’ll spray your back and you do mine?”  He was already spritzing the sanity saving liquid over Hannah’s back before he even asked.

“Mmm.  Of course.”  She stood with arms and legs spread wide to ensure good coverage of the spray.  “Ok, your turn.  Oh are you kidding me?   You’re going to have to lean down a ways, Gargantua.”  She tugged on the shoulder of his jacket to encourage him to duck. “Are people like you even legal outside of a circus?”

He sputtered.  There was no way she knew about the circus, surely.   “Thanks for that.  How nice.  If I wasn’t such a gentleman I might ask if you buy your kit in the children’s department.” 

“Ha, nice guy!  Truce?  I won’t make tall jokes and you don’t make short jokes, deal?”   Hannah held out her hand to shake on it.

“Deal!”  He reached out to shake her hand but she pulled it back and spit on her palm before extending it again with a cheeky grin.

He should have been disgusted but instead he was embarrassed.  When she spit on her palm he wasn’t thinking about shaking hands.   _Truce indeed._   Ever since that blasted wet dress he needed to declare truce with his gonads.

“It must be said, you folk in the colonies are rather uncouth.”  He grinned back at her and shook her hand, holding it in his much longer than was strictly necessary due primarily to seeing her pupils dilate and hearing her soft gasp when their fingers touched.  _Thank the Lord for small mercies, she’s as affected as I am.  Misery quite loves company._

“You … we … the guide ...” Hannah cleared her throat and continued, “You should finish reading about this spot so we can go on.  Tara and Neve are already quite a ways ahead of us.”

“Of course.”  He brought the guide up before he dropped her hand and tore his eyes away from hers. He finished reading the text and they moved on, walking in companionable silence. 

From time to time Hannah stopped and pointed wordlessly to a bird or a den or a special flower.  She took several photographs, including some of Richard engrossed in watching a garter snake trying to ingest a slug.  When he was unguarded his face was a myriad of micro expressions swiftly flowing one into another, morphing surprise with distaste or delight with awe in the blink of an eye.  He was fascinating to watch.

Richard read from the trail guide at each observation post and even though Hannah heard and read the same material a thousand million times, it was the first time in Richard’s voice and she would have fought a large army to listen to him read the phone book if the opportunity presented itself. 

At Post 4, the path split, taking them on a foot bridge over a feeder creek for the Madawaska River.  The babbling and gurgling of the small rapids was the perfect accompaniment for the birds twittering and calling in the trees.   They paused to appreciate the moment, intuitively stopping and starting at the same time.

Hannah tapped on his shoulder and smiled at him. “Fast Fact.” 

“Hmmm.  Yes.  Tom became quite good at lettering and design and got a job at Grip Ltd. where JEH MacDonald was the head designer.  Arthur Lismer, Fred Varley, and Franklin Carmichael also worked there and they’d go on weekend painting trips together.  Of course **_you_ ** know that those lads later formed the Group of Seven.”

“That was an acceptable answer.  Tsk, and, of course **_I_** know who the Group of Seven was.”   Hannah said to the back of his head as they traipsed onward.

At Post 6 their ascent up the hill was aided by very handy stairs – a lot of stairs.  By the time they reached Post 7 they were at the top of the cliff on a beautiful overlook of Cache Lake.   They’d finally caught up with Tara and Neve who had stopped for a snack.

“Oh there you are.  We thought you might have gotten lost.”  Neve said and Tara nearly spit out the sip of juice she’d just taken.

“Yeah.  Might have been lost.”  She snickered and elbowed Neve which didn’t escape Hannah’s notice and promptly led to a severe case of ‘sunburn’ on her face.   If there were any mercies to be had, it was that Richard was oblivious to the whole charade.

Hannah looked over to him, standing at the edge of the cliff taking in the view.  Even with most of his face turned away from her she could feel his appreciation for this beautiful place.  She didn’t think she could care about someone who couldn’t feel Algonquin in their bones.   Not that caring about Richard as anything other than a friendly client was a concern, of course.

She could see the worries melt off of him.  No more fears of water or bears or whatever haunted him out there in the world.  She’d seen it happen to others and it never ceased to move her.   There was something profound about being witness to another person receiving the gift of peace.   As Hannah stood watching him and being happy for him she became aware of him.  He was astonishingly handsome; his strength balanced with gentleness and beauty balanced with striking features.  Nothing in the Vicar of Dibley or on Google prepared her for the visceral impact of how massively good looking he was in real life.

Richard gazed at Cache Lake.   Hannah gazed at Richard.  Tara and Neve gazed at the two of them, exchanging knowing nods and quietly packing up, readying to carry on.   Tara spoke quietly to Hannah, “We’re on our way.  You two take as much time as you need.  It’s nice to see both of you calm and happy after yesterday.”  She gave Hannah a wink which was more kind than salacious and looked at Richard, nodding as she looked back at Hannah.  “Enjoy.”

 _Oh yeah, that._    The calm she’d felt leeched away leaving her as anxious as she was the morning before.  _No regrets, right?  What a frigging inconvenient motto.  Just breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth._

Hannah slowly moved up to stand beside Richard and gently placed her hand just above his elbow.  “Hi.”  She softly said.

He looked down and exchanged a small smile with her, glad to share such a beautiful view with people who loved it.

“Hi.  This is a lovely place Hannah.  Thank you for bringing us here.” 

“It has got something special hasn’t it?!  Richard, listen I … ah … I wanted to talk about yesterday, I need to ex–“

“No need Hannah.  Everything’s fine.”  His voice was kind but the steel rod was back in his spine and there was no warmth in his eyes.

Hannah clenched her hands in fists by her sides.   “Well can you just humour me then?  If that’s not too much to ask.”   She bit her lip, instantly regretting her snarkiness.

It prickled his skin.  Whatever easy peace they’d achieved was destroyed.  He would sooner swim across the Atlantic than have a personal conversation with Hannah at that moment.  However it was the third time she’d tried to talk about it and he didn’t want there to be a fourth. “Fine.  What did you want to say?”

She splayed her fingers against her thighs and turned back to look back at the lake.   It wouldn’t do much good to bite his head off while she apologized.  That would not be on Carnegie’s list of things to do to win friends and influence people.  

“Just before you came into the shop yesterday I’d gotten roped into telling Tara about falling off the dock and that you were pretty nice about the whole thing.  She started teasing and it just got to me.  She said something teasing about you, and I completely overreacted.  Richard – I was ticked off at Tara, I didn’t mean what I said.  I am so sorry that you paid the price for me being crunchy with my friend.  Can you forgive me?”   She stood still as stone waiting for his answer.

He left her hanging while he thought on it for a few moments – moments which felt like hours.  Eventually he turned to her and smiled warmly, “Only if you can forgive me for being such a gormless wanker by not allowing you to explain yesterday.”

“Of course, silly.”  She grinned and grew several inches as the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.   She was so elated at how easy that turned out to be she almost scooped him up in her arms for a big hug.

“So,  ‘I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. HAVE. ANYTHING. TO. DO. WITH. RICHARD.  STINKING. ARMITAGE.’   was just you going off on Tara, yeah?”  He asked mischievously.

“Um.  Yes.  Why?”  She was more than a little suspicious at the question and the delivery.

“Hmmm, I don’t stink, then?”  His mouth quirked at the edges.

“Not yet.  I expect you will in a couple of days though.  It goes with the territory.”  This was not the apology and acceptance she’d envisioned. “Seriously though, I didn’t mean what I said – the way it must have sounded …”

“So, there **_is_** something you’d like to do with me?”  He almost fell off the cliff laughing at the look of shocked horror on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest Board for Chapter 8:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-8/


	9. From a Whimper to a Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board with paintings, trails, scenery, outfits, and more:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-9/

“So, there  **is**  something you’d like to do with me?”  He almost fell off the cliff laughing at the look of shocked horror on her face.

Hannah choked and looked everywhere on the trail except at Richard.   “Well, of course.  You know … canoeing, hiking ...”

“Is that all?”  He smirked just to torture her a little longer.

Her chin dropped and she sputtered under her breath.  “No?”

He didn’t answer, he simply continued looking at her with that naughty smirk and enjoyed himself immensely.  However, his delight in her embarrassment had the opposite of the desired effect.  A new wickedness glinted in her eyes.

“Oh dearest Richard, what I’d like to do with you is not for the faint of heart.”   

It was his turn to swallow his tongue.  _Bloody hell, I said she was brave and saucy._  He should have listened to his own words.   _Decision time: play or forfeit?_

“You do know what they say, yeah?   Faint heart never won fair lady.”  Richard volleyed back.

“Ah ha.  So, you want to win me?  And what would you do with your prize, hmm?”   Hannah sucked on her lower lip and she heard what she suspected was a moan.

He lowered his head and looked at her with the smoulder of a lifetime.   He heard her sudden ragged breath as he swaggered towards her, immobilizing her with his eyes.   He dropped his voice a full register, “Would you like me to tell you or to show you?”

Hannah met him on the battlefield, unwilling to back down.  “Why choose?  Why not show _and_ tell?”

“Tell now and show later, then?”  He gave her The One Arched Eyebrow and stood in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

“Why wait? Tell now and show now seems only fair.”  She bit the corner of her lower lip and batted her eyelashes, revelling in his inability to look away from her mouth.

The game escalated quickly and the risks ratcheted up.  Richard brushed the hair from her eyes with gentle fingers.   It was soft and silky on his hand, tempting and taunting him.  He wanted take down the messy bun and run his hands through her tresses.  He wanted to stroke her velvety cheek and crush his lips against hers.  Every sense was aware of her as the rest of the world receded. Richard lifted his hand to follow his impulses, hesitating to see if the heat in her eyes mirrored his own.

Hannah licked her lips with the tip of her tongue when Richard tugged on the scrunchie holding her bun in place.  Suddenly she froze and held up her hand to stop.

“Wait. What is that?  Do you hear that?”  Hannah whispered.

“What I don’t hear any—“

“Shhhh.  It sounds like a – oh shit, it is.  It’s a whistle.  Two long blasts.  It’s Tara – there’s an emergency.   C’mon we have to go.”   She pushed past him and grabbed their pack.  “C’mon Richard.   Walk, don’t run. Don't run - you can’t afford to trip.  C’MON.”

They charged along the trail, Hannah giving periodic triple bursts from her own whistle to let Tara know they were on their way and getting closer.

Hannah and Richard found Tara with an unconscious Neve cradled in her arms.   Hannah looked at her watch - it had been four minutes since the first whistle.  Neve had probably been unconscious for at least that long, which wasn’t a good sign.

“What are we dealing with?”  Hannah asked, feeling along Neve’s face and neck, looking for anything out of place.

“She tripped and fell.  She must have hit her head or something. We’ve got to get her out of here.”  Tara said.

“You moved her?  TARA!!!”  Hannah continued to palpate Neve’s head and neck, methodically going over and over the vulnerable areas.   She found a substantial goose egg on the back of Neve’s head.  “Large hematoma on the parietal not far above the occipital bone.”   She looked around for the pack.  “Richard did you pack a flashlight by any chance?  Richard?”  

He stopped staring at Neve and snapped back to attention. “Sorry?  What’s wrong?”

“She has a large bump on the back of her head.  I need a flashlight, did you pack one?”  Hannah spoke calmly and deliberately.

“Um, no.  I didn’t think -  what can I do?”  Richard stood stock still, only his eyes betraying his anxiousness.

“Tara, any other hikers in the area?”  Hannah asked and sighed when Tara shook her head.  “Rich, just stand by.  Tara, did she hit anything else?”

“Ah, I don’t think so.  She tripped and went down pretty quickly.”  Tara chewed her lip, staring off into the distance as she tried to remember details.

Hannah slowly and methodically felt for injuries, starting at Neve’s ankle.   Up one leg, down again.  Up the other, down again.  As she began the same process on her arm, Neve stirred.  Hannah spoke calm little reassurances as Neve struggled her way out the fog.

“What happened?”  Neve asked, groggy and confused.

“You fell and blacked out but you’re okay now.  I’m just going to check your arms for injuries, is that okay Neve?”  Hannah asked.

Neve started to nod and hissed, her hand flying to the back of her head.  “Owww.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have quite a goose egg for a couple of days.  The good news is that there are no fluids coming from your ears or nose and your skin is a little bit pale but otherwise nice and dry.  Neve, do you think you’re able to answer some questions for me?”  Hannah held her hand and stroked the back of it.

“Yeh, I guess.” 

“First off, where does it hurt?”  Hannah watched her carefully.

“The back of my head … and my wrist is kind of sore.”  Neve rotated her hand and grimaced.

“Okay.  I’m going to put my finger in front of your nose and it want to you follow it with your eyes, don’t move your head.  Ready?”  Hannah smiled as Neve nodded without hissing and followed her finger back and forth, crossing when Hannah let her fingertip rest on Neve’s nose.   “Now I’m going to lift your eyelids a little and look into your pupils.”  She did and was pleased to see that her pupils were clear and of equal size.   She dearly wished she had a flashlight to see how they reacted to light but she suspected, given everything else, that they would be fine.

“I’ll ask again a few times but I want you to tell me if you need to throw up, you get an unusually bad headache, or if you get sleepy, dizzy or haveblurry vision.  Got that?"  Neve gave a little nod.  "Rich, please pass me some water."  

He opened the Nalgene water bottle and handed it to Neve.  Standing awkwardly to the side - wanting to help but having nothing more to do - he smiled encouragingly at Neve as she slowly sipped the water.

"Thanks Rich."  She handed the Nalgene back to him with a grateful little look.

Hannah, gave Rich a quick almost-smile and turned back to Neve, "Okay, now I’m going to help you up and you tell me if there’s anything weird or that hurts.  Okay?  Good.”  She carefully helped Neve stand and was concerned at how dizzy she was when she first got to her feet.  

“Just take a minute, breathe and relax.”  Hannah nodded to Tara who stood close on Neve’s other side. "We've gotchya."

It didn’t take long for Neve to get her legs back under her and give an embarrassed chuckle.   “I’m not usually such a klutz.  I don’t know what happened.”

“No worries.  As long as you’re okay, nothing else is important.  Let’s take it easy and if you’re up to it, we’ll get on our way.”  Hannah reassured her that there was no rush and nothing to worry about.  She turned to Richard, “Can you take both packs?  Tara and I will walk on either side of Neve, just in case.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.  Um … wouldn’t it be better if I walked beside her to, you know, help carry her if needs must?”  Richard asked.

“No doubt you’re stronger, we don’t call you Gargantua for nothing, but we’re more her height which makes it easier for walking and if Neve does go down, we’ll stay put for a while.  I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it’ll really free us up if we don’t have to carry a pack.”  Hannah held a pack out to him and he took it.

“Oh course.  Sorry.  Shouldn’t have questioned.”  Richard frowned and slung the pack on his back.

“Don’t apologize.  You’re thinking things through, not simply reacting or panicking.  It was a good, logical question.  Never apologize for stuff like that!”  Hannah patted him on the arm and nodded.

They started off slowly, Hannah watching Neve closely, engaging her in conversation and noting the clarity of her answers.  Neve had a headache but otherwise seemed fine and eventually they were able to pick up the pace.   They paused for a short time at the edge of Grant Lake and admired the view.   Hannah was subtle in her ongoing observation of Neve but did not relent, even chatting while she took photos with Grant Lake as a backdrop when Neve requested it.   Richard was quiet during the hike out, watching Hannah watch Neve.

When they got to the car Hannah insisted that Neve be taken to the hospital, there was no way to tell if an internal injury was hiding, waiting to erupt and cause nasty damage. 

“Richard, Tara, I’ll take Neve into Huntsville.”  When Richard started to disagree, Hannah said, “We have to stop by Arowhon to pick up Neve’s health insurance stuff then I’ll drop you two off at AO so you can hop in your rental car and continue your afternoon at the Visitor Centre.  Barring a terrible wait at the hospital, shall we meet back at Arowhon at 7 for dinner?”  Tara and Richard nodded and waved as Hannah pulled out the parking lot and sped off to the hospital.

 

Richard and Tara scouted out the interactive stations and outdoor exhibits at the Visitor Centre.  Richard was interested in the art gallery, examining each of the paintings carefully, trying to identify Tom Thomson or Group of Seven influences in the contemporary artists.

“Any favourites?”  Tara asked.

“It’s all well done.  I can see how it appeals to so many people.  Do you have a favourite?”  Richard asked.

Tara chuckled, “You should go into the diplomatic service.  That was the best _non_ answer I’ve ever heard.  I love real nature but nature art doesn’t do much for me.  That’s almost blasphemy around here so don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“Fair enough.  You seem to like the gallery though, and it’s all nature art.”  He was curious why she was enjoying something she didn’t like.

“I wouldn’t hang it above my fireplace but that doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting to look at.   Hannah and I come in and have a contest to see which of the paintings the other likes most/hates least.  The first time we did it was super silly.  When it was my turn to guess hers we went around the gallery twice and I still hadn’t guessed.   On the next round she asked about each one of the paintings I hadn’t guessed yet and eventually she asked about her pick.   I said something like ‘it couldn’t be that one because that one’s nasty’.   Well she got in such a stubborn snit she bought it and has it in the front hall of her house.   Yeah, and she points out how much she LOVES it every fricking time I go over.”  Tara sniggered.

“So you wanna play?”  Richard asked.  She nodded and grinned.

They walked through again and each picked a painting.   It took two more tours of the room for them to find each other’s favourites.  Tara chose a painting which was very similar to Tom Thomson’s Nocturne and Richard had chosen one similar to Tom's Clouds.   

“Which one would Hannah like, do you think?”  Richard asked

“Oh I’m pretty sure she’d like Clouds – she might actually really like it and not just think it was the least of the worst.  She usually goes for something with interesting colours which doesn’t have any animals.”  Tara nodded.

They continued on through the Visitor Centre, looking at all of the dioramas and exhibits.  Richard took extra time in the fire tower replica.  Tom spent his summers working as a fire ranger and Richard wanted to get a feeling for what he saw and how he felt.  All around him were trees in every shade of green, a wide, clear sky and a lake shimmering in the sunlight. It was a beautiful vista and Richard could indeed imagine spending hours in a much taller tower surrounded by the purity of the park.  With birds trilling and chipmunks skittering about, It would be an inspiring, almost spiritual place for an artist to sketch and dream.  For the first time he felt a real connection with Tom, an insight into his feeling of peace and his passion for the verdant paradise surrounded by the song of the birds and the wind in the trees.  The relationship with Winnie and the mystery of Tom’s death were what initially drew Richard to the story but this, this was sensory and emotional.  When Hannah suggested going to the Visitor Centre he thought it was simply killing time while they waited for the storm to pass, but it turned out to be a valuable experience and he couldn’t wait to get back to Arowhon to write in his journals.

..ooOOoo..

It was 7:00 with no sign of Neve or Hannah and Richard was getting antsy.  _What if Neve had brain damage?  Would she be alright?  Would she need to be replaced on the film?  Would the studio want to cancel the canoe trip because of the risk?_   _Would they have already had supper and not need to dine with me and Tara?  If they didn’t need supper, Hannah wouldn’t have need to stay after dropping off Neve._   He moved his chair so that he had a clear view of the dining room entrance and fidgeted, picking at his nails and thrumming his fingers on his thigh.

Tara arrived at 7:15 much to the relief of Richard’s poor cuticles.   He stood as she approached the table and pushed her chair in for her as she sat, gaining a surprised little smile.

“I didn’t know men still did that.  It’s nice, thank you Rich.”   She looked up at the server who arrived for her drink order, “Cranberry and soda with a twist of lime please?”  and she turned back to Richard, “No sign of the wounded warrior yet?”

Richard shook his head, “No, not yet I’m afraid.  I was going to ask if you’d heard from Hannah.”

“I’ll text her but reception isn’t great out here.”  Tara sent the message and chatted with Richard, amused at how distracted he was.  Several times he had to ask Tara to repeat what she said and his eyes kept darting to the door.

At 7:30 he heard laughter and almost jumped out of his seat.  _There they are!_  Hannah and Neve casually strolled through the door looking as right as rain.  As much as he’d recognize Hannah anywhere he was surprised by the woman approaching his table.  She was wearing a striped black and white dress with black leggings and Doc Martens.  But it was her hair, all loose and wavy and bouncy and begging to be wrapped around his hands, which gave him a lump in his throat which could easily travel south if he didn’t behave. 

“How’s the patient?”  He asked Neve as he pushed in her chair while stealing glances at Hannah.

“Clean bill of health.  I’m cleared for take-off.  My wrist is sore but it’s not even sprained.”  Her voice was laced with relief.  “And I know for sure that I’m okay because Hannah was a tyrant demanding tests and a neurologist and I hope she never gets hurt because I don’t think they’ll be thrilled to see her darken their doors again.   You wouldn’t believe how assertive our quiet little Hannah was!   I’ve never felt safer or in better hands!”

Tara chuckled, she’d seen Hannah go into Medic Mode a couple of times and she was ferocious, taking no prisoners on her quest to ensure health and safety.

“You look terrific tonight.” He said quietly near Hannah’s ear as he pushed in her chair, one hand tracing along the back of the chair and _accidentally_ brushing across her back.   He felt her quiver at his touch and he very nearly moaned out loud.

He had a lot of ‘accidents’ at dinner.  His foot against hers; his fingers brushing hers when she passed him the salt; leaning back with his arm stretched along the back of her chair; his gaze lingering on her longer than usual.   Hannah hadn’t provided any intentional acknowledgement of his touches but it was plain, to him, that she was not only aware, but enjoying the game as much as he.   He heard her little gasps; her fingers lingered on his; the tips of her ears turned crimson with the heat rising within; and she leaned back into his hand when it was on her chair.  Miss Reading was doing all that was needed to make him absolutely mad.

“So 10:00 at AO? Right Hannah?”  Tara asked.

“Hmmm?  Pardon me?  What was that?”  Hannah gave herself a little shake to bring her mind back to the conversation.

Tara smirked, Hannah was so transparent Tara couldn’t help but laugh at how distracted she was by Richard.  “We’re still on for 10?”

“Oh.  Yes.  I checked EnviroCan and the forecast is fine for tomorrow.  It was fairly calm when we got back tonight too so it looks like all systems are go.  Of course, I reserve the right to change plans in the morning.”   She grinned.  She liked being lead guide on her first trip and it turned out calling the shots was a little bit of a thrill.

“Exxxxx-cellent.  Well, I need to call it a night and all of you should too – a good sleep is very important before a trip.  We came back here in Richard’s rental so, Hann, I’m going to need a lift back to AO to pick up my car.”  Tara mentally ran through the short list of things she had to do before bed.

Hannah was both disappointed and relieved that she had to leave so soon.  She heard Richard’s disheartened sigh and shared the sentiment; she was having an extraordinary amount of fun with their little game of tag.  But it was a game which could turn dangerous far too easily.  It was one thing to do a bit of innocuous flirting on a cliff top or in a restaurant, but it was another thing entirely to be in his hotel in the evening when the others had gone their separate ways.

They finished their decaf coffees and rose to say their goodnights.  Ever the gentleman, Richard kissed each of the women on the cheek.  When it was Hannah’s turn, he kissed her just as he had the others but for her, he whispered.  “Goodnight Hannah, sleep well.”  His lips near her ear and the rumble of his voice made her knees weak, leaving her wondering how she’d sleep at all after that.  She didn’t see him smirk at her whimper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board with paintings, trails, scenery, outfits, and more:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-9/


	10. All Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little smutty ... time to start earning that Mature rating.
> 
> Pinterest board for Chapter 10 (visuals, audios, gifs, places, people, hallucinations)  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-10/

Hannah was in something of a daze for her entire drive home.   She could feel the ghost of his fingers skimming along her back and his knee pressing warmly against hers.  Her hand still tingled where it rested alongside his on the table.  The flirting on the cliff was … stimulating ... and she felt that chaste little goodbye kiss run wild through every nerve ending, settling deep, deep down inside.   _But it was what he said in parting.  No, that's not exactly right.  It wasn’t so much what he said, it was how he said it._   His warm breath ghosting over her ear melted her bones.   His innocent words were the most sensual she could remember.  He insinuated himself into her thoughts, and if her suspicions were correct, probably into her dreams as well.  She sighed wearily and mumbled to herself, "Bad enough I can't stop thinking about him, the last thing I need is him invading my dreams as well."

By the time she washed up and changed for bed, it was only 10 o’clock; and as much as she knew she needed a good night’s sleep, she didn’t have to wake up until 8 o'clock-ish, so it wouldn’t hurt to stay up until midnight.   _No sense going to bed when I'm not sleepy, that would undoubtedly lead to frustration and restless dreams.  It would be best to tire myself out and not think about him ... at all._

Hannah vacuumed and cleaned the bathroom even though neither needed it.  She went over her bills to make sure everything was paid.  She reorganized her pots and pans cupboard and looked at the clock to find she’d wasted only 45 minutes.  So much for tiring herself out _and_ the mission to strike Richard from her mind wasn’t going any better.

Maybe if she saw him being a rat bastard it wouldn’t be so difficult to cast aside the ridiculousness plaguing her mind and body.  She looked him up on IMDB again and checked out the program descriptions.  She needed a show where he was the bad guy, someone completely despicable and preferably uglified.  

She had to go all the way back to 2006 to find something that might work.   Moving On had looked promising but the character was described as charming and handsome and that would be no good at all.   So it looked like Robin Hood would do the trick.  His character biography said:  “Lieutenent and cousin to the Sheriff of Nottingham, Guy of Gisborne is a violent, cruel and corrupt medieval warrior bent on killing Robin Hood and anyone affiliated with him.”   _Sounds absolutely perfect._

Three hours later she was wondering when exactly it was that her morality deserted her.   Guy of Gisborne was all the things that IMDB said but it didn’t matter.   She wanted him with a wickedness which would have been amusing had the pool of heat low in her belly not been so damn uncomfortable.  He was a rockstar, biker gang, medieval dude who oozed sex and awakened every single milligram of ‘if he just had the love of a good woman, he’d turn over a new leaf’ she had in her ... or maybe she just wanted to stop being a good girl and be as bad as he was.  She wanted to take him into her arms and heal all that was broken within him.    Or maybe just take him into her arms. 

He looked different than Richard but he had some of his expressions, most notably The Quirky Smile, The Snerk, The Smoulder and he had That Voice.   Yeah, watching Robin Hood was probably one of the worst decisions she’d made since … well, since she decided to play show and tell dare on the cliff top.

Hannah went to bed an hour later than she’d intended with a restlessness which demanded her attention.  She lay in the soft, welcoming bed unable to turn off her mind or her body - they were insistent on returning to _him_.  In leather or in a Gore-Tex rain jacket, in leather or twill, with long hair or short, it didn’t matter.  If she let her eyes slip closed and her mind drift just a little, he was there with her, smiling, caressing her, intoxicating her with his voice.   Thinking of him, imagining him, she stroked her neck, soothing and massaging it lightly, tracing the tips of her fingers over the shell of her ears, across her collar bone, along her chin, ghosting her thumb over her lips.   She shivered, feeling it was Richard’s big, warm hand and his long, artistic fingers exploring her, rousing her desire.

Her hand trailed down between her breasts, tremours under her warm skin as she felt excitement rising.  Her touch began feather light, tracing contours and creating anticipation in every nerve ending.   It was Guy’s gloved hand kneading first one breast and then the other.   Harry’s sweet lips which kissed a way down her neck to replace Guy’s hands.  While Harry nibbled and sucked her aching peaks, Guy removed his trousers and freed himself.  Richard’s hands roamed over her body, leaving trails of adrenalin infused tingles everywhere they caressed.  

It wasn’t Hannah’s fingers tracing whisper light patterns over her hips and belly, it was Harry’s.  Richard devoted his attention to her breasts and he was more forceful than Harry, pinching and tweaking where Harry soothed and suckled.   It was Harry’s lips kissing their way across her, circling her belly button.   Guy’s eyes smouldered as he watched bliss illuminate her face from within and he gave her The Snerk.   Richard’s hands replaced his own lips as kissed his way up her chest to her neck, whispering and moaning deep and low by her ear, telling her how desperately he wanted to play show and tell.   

Her hands masquerading as Guy’s traced up her thighs, meeting Harry’s worship of her belly, lingering before sliding back down.  They traced up the inside of her thighs, making her shiver.  When their fingers reached the source of her aching need she visibly trembled, her back arching as she rose up to meet Guy's touch.  Richard at her ear and breast, Harry at her belly and breast and Guy between her legs made her dizzy.   Guy pulled his gloves off with his teeth and threw them across the room.   She could hear his grunt as his fingers grazed and teased her, finding her desire soaking the tips of his fingers.  He traced and massaged and pressed into her, making her moan and twitch.  Harry murmured endearments against her skin and Richard told her all the filthy things he wanted to do with her.   Guy rubbed circles around her most sensitive spot: lots of pressure; a feather light touch; pressure up and down; little flicks; or rolling it between his fingers until she thought she would go mad.  She needed something more to finish, she needed him inside.  

Guy pushed Harry out of the way and slid up her body to seize her mouth, his hand positioning himself at her entrance.  He bit her lip and laughed deep and dirty at her moan, sliding his engorged tip up and down but not in, never in.   She shouted in frustration and Guy threw his head back, laughing at her greedy, desperate need. 

Just as Guy was about to finally cross her threshold, Richard shoved him out of the way and pushed inside of her.  “You’re mine. You are only mine.”  He said between gritted teeth as he thrusted and grinded against her, “You. Are. Mine.” 

He growled as tidal waves of ecstasy washed over her, her walls pulsing around him, and she screamed until she was hoarse, “RICHARD.  I AM YOURS.”    Guy and Harry vapourized as her breathing calmed and muscles relaxed.  Richard stayed with her, whispering in her ear, until she drifted off to sleep, resting his hand comfortably between her legs.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

On her way to the dining room, Neve noticed Richard at the front desk.  Not wanting to interrupt his conversation with the staff, she stood quietly aside.   She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but it wasn’t like she could exactly turn her ears off.

“… so they’ll be ready and waiting at the store in a week and a day, yeah?”  Richard spoke gleefully.  “And you’ve got all the information?  Perfect.”   He turned and saw Neve standing there and smiled.

“Good morning Miss Campbell.  Lovely day for an expedition, don’t you think?”  Richard took her hand and spun her around as he hummed a tune.  

“What in the world has gotten into you?  And, not to rain on your parade but we’ll be gone in eight days so how in the world are you going to pick anything up from a store here?”   She shook her head and chuckled at him.

“No worries.  It’s all in hand. Now what shall we have for breakie?  Hannah said to make sure we have lots of protein and complex carbs.  Sounds like a good old fashioned fry up would tick all the boxes.”  Richard spent so much time and effort maintaining his diet that the opportunity to splash out a bit was a novelty.

“Yuck.  Lean protein and complex carbs, Richard, not grease and fat and more grease.  You English and your fry ups.”  Her face scrunched up in disgust and she swatted his arm.

Richard liked Neve.  She was smart, funny and a genuinely nice person.  If he had to spend three months filming a character with a love interest, he was glad it was with someone he could actually get along and have a laugh with.

They ate their breakfast of steel cut oats, berries, Canadian bacon, and scrambled eggs, chatting away about the irony of Neve being an honourary Brit and that by portraying a national artistic treasure, he was an honourary Canuck.  

“Hey, maybe we can get a group rate on dual citizenships.”  Neve joked.

“Who says I want to be a bleeding Canadian?”  He snorted.

“Mmm.  We’ll see.  Let’s talk next week.”  Neve’s look might have appeared enigmatic but she thought he might very well be singing a different tune in short order.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Richard and Neve pulled into AO's parking lot at 9:55 to find Tara and Hannah tying off the last of the ropes attaching a canoe to the top of Hannah’s Toyota.

“Ladies, good morning.  Looks like you’ve had a head start on getting us away.”  Richard waved hello.

Hannah said hi to Neve and started to say hi to Richard when her jaw dropped; her eyebrows shot up into her scalp; and her cheeks turned carnelian red.  She thought it best not to make eye contact but to look at a point just beyond him.  But right behind him were the translucent images of Harry and Guy, smiling and licking their lips.

Hannah yelped and took off for the store, slamming the door to the staffroom shut and slumping down against it.   _Dammit, three years and I never had a melt-down in the staff room – Richard shows up and within three days I’ve had two._

Tara banged on the door, “Hey.  What’s the matter with you?  You took off like a scalded cat.”

“Oh Tarr, just shoot me now.  I’m not fit to live.”  Hannah groaned and smacked her forehead, sliding out of the way just enough for Tara to squeeze in through the door.

Tara snickered and rolled her hand in a circle, motioning Hannah to continue, “and?”

“I had a … um … well … a … a dream … yeah, a dream about Richard and it was pretty ... you know ...  When he said hi it all came flooding back and when I looked at him I saw … well I saw the ... dream.  It was really vivid and I kinda panicked.  I’ll be okay, it’s just the shock of how clear the memory was.”

“A dream, huh?  Whatever.  If I didn’t have to spend the next week with you two I would be lauhing hysterically right now.  But …  you freaking out over a client and we have to be in very close quarters with them for a week so –“

“I know, I know.  I’ll stop the hysterics.”  Hannah sighed and tugged at her sleeve, nervously. “I should probably just keep it professional, huh?.  Yeah … I’ll just be friendly but professional.”  She nodded to herself, strengthening her resolve to stop embarrassing herself at work.

Tara started out the door and paused, looking at Hannah expectantly.

“Tara, do you regret giving me lead on this trip?  Have I screwed everything up?”   Hannah’s eyes were downcast as she waited for Tara to answer.

“Don’t be silly.  Neve and I have totally encouraged you two.  Yeah, you’ve gotten a little personal with a client but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t participating in too.  He’s not complaining, in fact he was kinda upset that the trip might get cancelled because of Neve’s fall.  I think he’s happy to be here … with us … with you.  If I could offer some advice though, since he sends you into such a panic, maybe banter is where you should draw the line.  Capisce?  Speaking of our clients, they’ll have the canoe on top of their car by now, we’ll have to check the ropes.”

“Yeah.  I get it.  Okay, let’s get this show on the road.  No more hysterics!”   Hannah got up and dusted herself off, not sure if she was relieved that everything was okay with Tara or disappointed about drawing lines which were not to be crossed.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

They pulled into the parking lot at Canoe Lake entry point and hopped out of their cars.   No matter how many times Hannah went on a park interior trip, the excitement of putting a canoe on the water’s edge never faded.

Hannah went into The Portage Store to pay for their permits and leave a copy of their itinerary with the Ministry of Natural Resources.   She came bounding out of the store pleased to see Neve and Tara in their canoe and Richard waiting for her to board.  

They moved the canoe over the sand, into the water and Hannah walked out a few feet to climb in.   As Richard pushed the canoe out a little further and prepared to board, Hannah surreptitiously edged the canoe away from him so that it became too awkward to get in.   He pulled the canoe back to him and steadied it again, placing his paddle on top of the gunwales but the canoe drifted too far.   The third time it happened his face was pinched tight and Hannah thought she could hear thunderous frustration brewing within him.   

“C’mon Richard.  You can do it Buddy, we practiced this and you did great.  I believe in you.”  She coughed to cover her smirk.

The fourth time he tried to get in he saw his ratfink paddling partner’s trick.  He chuckled in a ‘let’s not go there’ voice, “Oh you are going to pay for that!   I can’t believe you would do that to a guy who doesn’t care for water.  But more importantly, to a guy who can put a paddle to the back of your head in 1.3 seconds whenever he wants to.”

“I’m counting on you being a much nicer person than I am.”  She said demurely and batted her eyelashes at him.

“That’s an excellent point.  I _am_ a much nicer person than you are.  How fortunate for you." He grinned evilly, "Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, did you sleep well last night?” He sniggered when her paddle froze mid-stroke and her back went ram-rod straight.

“Why yes I did, thank you for asking.  Slept like a rock, but then I was quite exhausted by the time I finally nodded off.”  Hannah was insanely thankful for not having to face him as she pulled faces and stuck out her tongue at his antics.  “Dinner wasn’t too rich for you I hope, how did you sleep?”

Richard coughed but recovered quickly, “Oh, you know how it is in a strange bed, it’s always hard.”

There was no point in trying to cover it up, she pulled he paddle across the gunwales and leaned over it laughing hard enough for Richard to see her shake.

“Oh Richard, we’re like a couple of adolescents … all these silly double entendres.   I have to give you credit though – you’re very good, and very quick.”

“Well that’s a backhanded compliment if ever I’ve heard one.  Which is it:  very good or very quick?  In my experience they are mutually exclusive.”   The jig was up anyway so he didn’t bother hiding his giggle.

She shook her head and groaned.   “Oh c’mon, we can’t carry on like this all day!”

“I don’t know about you, but I can carry on for a very, very … very long time.”   He resumed giggling.

“Really, Rich?  Really?  How old are you?  14?  You’re a silly little boy!”  She rolled her eyes but also laughed.

“Oh I can assure you, there’s nothing little about--“   He was cut off by a splash expertly administered by the paddle of his bowman.  “Hey … play nice.”

Hannah was sorely tempted to make some stupid comment about how nice she could play.  But she was trying to clean up their chatter.  _Be professional.  Be professional.  You can do it.  Don’t go too far._   So instead of firing off a wicked little retort, she asked, “You did want to see the memorial cairn to Tom, right?”

Surprised by the abrupt change in topic, he went along with it, “Yeah, if it’s not too far off course.”

Hannah chuckled, “Given the fact that Tom is the reason for your trip, it’s not off course in the least.  I don’t even know why I asked.”

“My darling, you know exactly why you asked!  You were changing the subject.  Now, where were we?  Oh yes, something about playing nice.”  He grinned, but the grin faded when she slumped and took a deep breath, her head shaking - barely perceptibly, but undeniably.  _Oh shit, did I push too far?_

“So, how far are we from the cairn?”   He asked, his tone suddenly subdued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 10 (visuals, audios, gifs, places, people, hallucinations)
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chapter-10/
> 
> Shieldmaidenofscotland suggested that Katy Perry's Hot n Cold could be their theme song ;-)


	11. Chippies, Paddles & Leathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thomson team is fully underway on their Algonquin adventure in this fluffy, outdoorsy Richard Armitage fan fiction.
> 
> Pinterest Board for Chapter 11:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-11/

'Whoooosh' - and there it went.  The wind was officially out of Hannah’s sails.  _Hello old companions of disappointment and frustration._   

There weren’t many people with whom Hannah felt comfortable enough that she could be herself, every version of herself.   Even though she preferred to steer clear of large groups, she could manage them without making herself look like an idiot, and she enjoyed the company of family and friends, to a point; but she could count on one hand the number of friends with whom she didn’t wear one mask or another.   Richard strolled in and caught her off guard, saying increasingly brazen things and pushing her boundaries.  She even had the gumption to force him to listen to her apology, which was on par with the parting of the Red Sea.  There were no masks with Richard. Embarrassment, laughter, anger, frustration, intense arousal: yes, but no masks had been necessary. Past tense.

Tara’s direction to draw lines and not cross them reverberated in Hannah’s mind.   Richard’s pull was incredible but her job’s was much greater.  There were few places in the world where she felt peace, contentment and fulfillment as she did in her job.   Shooting endless contact sheets worth of photographs used to be her ‘happy place’ but her time in New York soured that.  Hiking and paddling refreshed her soul and when she was privileged to witness someone else’s love for the park bloom, well that was just icing on the cake.  

 _No, I won’t risk my job or Algonquin Park, not even for Richard, or anyone else for that matter._    _Friendly, enjoyable trip - that's all.  I can do that._ Once burned, twice shy was not just an observation, it was a dire warning and one she would heed.  _No, I won’t not risk my peace for a man, not ever again._

Tara said the banter was okay but that was a slippery slope for Hannah.  Especially given the way their banter tended to escalate.  _No, as fun as it was, it had to stop.  I should stop it.  Shouldn't I? Yeah, I probably should. _But he's so different ..._  _And that was what knocked the wind out of her sails.   She was, once again, firmly convinced that human interaction rules were crap. _No fraternizing with the customer?  That's bullshit._

It pissed her off to have to settle the war raging within.  “No regrets” was a good motto but which would she regret less:  closing the door on a rare flirtation; or risking her job and hard won peace in the park?   Of course ‘once burned, twice shy’ had to chime in to make sure flirtation didn’t stand a chance.  When it came down to it, there was no contest.  Her job would win out over a handsome nomad any day of the week.

She sighed and slumped when Richard tried to take them back to their naughty conversation.  It was up to Hannah to find appropriate friendly professionalism and it looked like Richard wasn’t going to be much help.  Not that she could blame him, she’d set the tone, which she was loathe to change, so how could he embrace the about face when she herself didn’t?  _Maybe I can screw up the courage to just tell him that we need to keep this professional.  I can do that, right?  I apologized and didn’t turn into a pile of ash.  But he’s already so tense and we’ve just managed to get things back on a friendly footing.  Maybe he’ll just get the hint to keep things a little more family rated.  Maybe he’ll be so distracted by his fear of water that he won’t notice.  Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe not._

He didn’t understand.  It was plain as day in the way his voice changed when he asked about Tom’s cairn.  By the end of the trip he was probably going to hate her guts.  They’d already had more ‘down turns’ than two strangers should.    Shutting down friendly, silly banter didn’t sound like something which could possibly endear her to him - - not that endearing herself to him had any merit anyway.   They’d been up and down so often in such a short amount of time, he’d lose patience and have every reason to dislike her for it.  The thought of him disliking her left her feeling hollow inside.  _Yeah, I’ll have to tell him.  I’m gonna do it.  I have to do it._

“I guess it’s about twenty minutes to the cairn.   Here, let me show you where we are on the park map.”  Hannah took a deep breath, sat up on the bow seat, and swung her legs around so that she was facing Richard.   She saw him pale and freeze.

“Hey, I’m sorry Rich, I should have warned you what I was going to do.  Moving around in a canoe is second nature to me but it isn’t for you and it was thoughtless to not consider that before I swung about.   Are you okay?  Do you want to sit for a bit and I’ll solo from up here?”  She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, to connect with him, to reassure him, but she dare not, she’d have to use her words better.

“No … it’s fine.  I’m fine.  It was just sort of … you know … a bit … the rocking was a kind of surprise.  But I’m fine.”  He loosened his grip on his paddle, allowing the blood to flow to his knuckles once again.  “So what did you want to show me?”  The colour gradually returned to his face as he grudgingly nodded towards the map.

“So this is where we are.” She pointed to a spot in the middle of the widest section of Canoe Lake on the topographic map.  “If you draw a straight line from the bow of our canoe to the stern of Tara’s and follow that line to the shore, that’s roughly where the cairn is – give or take a couple dozen feet.   Hey, just a second…”  Hannah looked behind her at Wapomeo Island and then shifted to point her paddle towards the shore on her left.  She stared down the shaft and then did the same thing on her right side.  “Right now we are roughly where Tom’s body was found.  Would you like to stop and say a few words or have a moment of silence in his memory?”

Hannah’s open, earnest face took the sting out of her mercurial changes and his close-call anxiety attack over her sudden movements in the canoe.  He stared at her for a moment and said, “Thanks for that.  Ah, I won’t need long, I’ll be ready to go when you’re settled back around facing front again.”   He had to admit, she was more accepting and respectful of his process than many actors he knew. _She knew I'd like time at this spot even though it is exactly like every spot in the last hour ... she just knew._

“I can dig your moleskin out of the daypack if you wanted to make some notes or –“  She offered as she turned back around to face forward in the canoe.

“No, but thank you.   I might jot some things down when we’re on dry land but this is fine.  I … um … it’s just that … you … but,”  he stuttered and gave up.

“For someone who makes their living with words, you sure have trouble with the English language, Mr. Super Duper Act-tor.” Hannah teased warmly, he could hear the smile in her voice even though he couldn’t see her face as she spoke.  He greatly appreciated the way she tried to lighten the mood.

“Pffft.”  He stared at the back of her head and mouthed, “What are you?  Are you even real?”  It had been so very long since a new acquaintance was free and easy going with him, over a decade he guessed.   She showed concern and consideration one moment, and yelled at him or teased him the next and all with nothing in it for herself. He had wondered if her demeanour was simple customer service but he knew that not to be the case.  He’d seen her serve customers at AO when Mark was busy and she’d been polite and friendly but nothing like the way she was with him.   “Who are you?”  He mouthed again.     _It's not just her job, it's her._  

They caught up with Tara and Neve and paddled side by side for the last few hundred feet to the cairn.   Richard was nervous for his first ‘out in the open, away from help’ type of beaching.  The prospect of getting out of a canoe onto big rocks with deep water all around was significantly more ominous than pulling up onto sand or tying off at a dock. 

“Almost there.”  Hannah turned around to smile and immediately saw Richard’s sickly pallor.   She called out to Tara, “Hey, Tarr?  Our load's shifted a bit. Let’s 2 man stabilize this canoe, okay?”  She glanced towards Richard, hoping Tara noticed.

“Yeah, of course.  Let me get this canoe secured first and I’ll be right there.”  She nodded to Hannah and stole a look at Richard from the corner of her eye.  He resembled the cheese in her fridge which desperately needed to be tossed out.

Hannah and Tara chatted amiably while docking and beaching the canoe, allowing Richard a modicum of dignity as he silently disembarked and attempted to keep his sigh of relief inaudible.

“Just over there where Neve is walking – you’ll see the cairn there Richard. I’ll be there in a second.”  Hannah said warmly.

Hannah fiddled with the straps on the day pack, allowing Richard to have a moment on his own to collect himself.  She grabbed her waterproof Nikon and caught up with the other three paddlers who stood reading the plaque on the cairn.   Tara and Neve hammed it up for the camera, not paying much attention to Richard who had moved over to the water’s edge.   Hannah snapped a few more pictures and unobtrusively joined him.

“It’s a very beautiful spot.  A good place for a memorial to Tom – he loved this place.” Hannah stepped up beside him and gazed out over the water.

“Mmm.  It was one of his favourite camping spots.  He did love it here.”  Richard’s voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.

“Well look at you.  Fast Facts without even being put on the spot.  Extra points for you.”  She said kindly and snuck a look at him to see the sadness tugging at his lips lighten marginally.

“It’s real, isn’t it?  I mean, he was here, in this very spot.  He had passions and hopes and fears and he died out there.  He loved this place so very much, it was his refuge and it was the end of him.  It was his life and his death.” 

Hannah gently patted his arm and looked up at him.  “Yes, he was here.  And you’re going to tell his story and make his memory more vibrant than his paintings.   You’ll absorb what it was that made this place so vitally important to him and infuse it in your acting.    Rich, would … would you like to be alone for a little while?”

He shook his head and nudged her shoulder with his arm.  “No.  Stay please?”  He gave a wee smile when she nodded. 

They stood in silence, looking out at the light dancing prisms on the lake, each deeply immersed in their own thoughts and quiet presence bolstering the other.   Hannah sat down on the rocks, hugging her knees to her chest and smiled at something in a faraway world.   Richard watched the sun and breeze caress her face, seeing joy and pain there, a life filled with experiences which brought her to this point, this place.  He knew she hadn’t been a guide for long so wondered what had led her to what he assumed was such a drastic life change.   It didn’t matter a sot, the only important thing was that she was right there, right then.   He sat down beside her on the huge rocks, scarcely brushing her arm, relieved she didn’t flinch or pull away.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Tara and Neve would have had to be completely blind to miss them sitting side by each the way they were. 

“Hmmph.   This is interesting.”  Tara muttered.

“They’re like moths to a flame.   You, ah, you don’t seem to approve anymore.”  Neve suggested, delicately.

“It’s not that … it’s just … I worry, she’s … I just worry, I guess.”  Tara picked a tall piece of grass and chewed on it.

“JJ knows Rich.  He wouldn’t have been happy for me to spend several months acting with him if he had any reason to mistrust Richard.  JJ has nothing but good things to say about him.  And from what I’ve seen, I’d have to agree - he’s a really good guy. I don’t think she’s in the cross hairs of a jerk.”  Neve shrugged and picked her own piece of grass to chew on.

“I’m sure he is.  It’s not that.  She’s the strongest person I know is many ways … but—“ Tara broke off.

“But she’s had her heart broken and you don’t want it so much as bruised ever again.”  Neve offered.

“No.  Ah, yes.  But – well not exactly.  It’s complicated.”  Tara kicked at the pebbles under foot and looked over at Hannah sitting there, calmly and quietly beside someone who could ruin her life, and heavens knew, she did not want to see Hannah go through that again.  Tara wanted to kick herself for encouraging them in the first place and again for not being more assertive about guide-client relations.  If she had any idea that anything other than a fun little ‘get back on the horse’ shag might happen, she wouldn’t have left room for anything to develop between them. She should have known better, it just wasn't in Hannah's character to be cavalier about such things.  Her friend wasn't a prude ... but she didn't exactly scream "free love"  either.

“Let’s see if they’re ready to go.”  Tara took a few steps before Neve’s hand was on her arm, gently stopping her.

“They’ll come when they’re ready.  They’ve had a rough couple of days, maybe a little peaceful companionship is just what they need.”  Neve spoke warmly but as Tara looked in her eyes, she saw a steely determination there too.

“Yes, well, tripping romances are against company policy.  I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t –“

Neve interrupted her with a disapproving shake of her head.  “Tarr, they’re not recalcitrant little children in need of discipline or protection.  They’re smart, healthy adults with their own minds.   They’re not fragile or desperate or lonesome losers.  They’ve found something in each other but they didn’t check their brains at the door, they know what the limitations are.  I think it’s because they know the limitations so well that it makes them sitting on those rocks all the more lovely.   We laughed about playing cupid when we thought it was just a lark, but now that there’s something tender between them, we have to stop playing.  They don’t need us, Tarr.”  She smiled indulgently at Tara, "and I don't think they  need company policy reminders either." 

“You know, if you weren’t a client I’d tell you to take a flying leap, right?”  Tara chuckled.

Neve nodded at her.  “You’re a good friend, Tara!  An excellent friend.  She’s lucky to have you in her corner!”

“Yeh, well I just … you know … I just worry about her, that’s all.”  Tara shredded the remains of the grass stem.  “You didn’t see her when …” She shook her head and grimaced at nearly betraying Hannah’s confidence.

“And you’ll be there to celebrate with her ... or to plot his slow, agonizing death or anything in between.  Now, there seems to be a plague of dandelions around here, what do you say we make flower crowns for everyone while we’re waiting?”   Neve grinned.

Tara rolled her eyes, “You know you’re way too cheerful, right?!   You need to watch that because, I’m just sayin’, one carefully applied crack to your cranium while we’re out on the lake and you’ll be sleeping with the fishes.   It’s one of the perks of being in the stern – me and my paddle get to weed out humanity’s undesirables.”

“You’d be a terrible thug!  You can’t threaten your way out of a paper bag.  Now c’mon and let’s embarrass Rich with a flower crown.”  Neve pulled her by the hand to the small dandelion infested meadow on the other side of the cairn.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

They might have sat on the rocks like that for hours if their bums hadn’t gone numb or the pins and needles didn’t hurt like mad. 

“We should have brought the kneeling pads to sit on.  My butt is killing me.”  Hannah stood and rubbed her poor, abused bum.

“Aw, we could have used our life jackets. Opportunity lost.”  Richard added.

She gasped, “Boy, don’t ever let me hear you talking smack like that!  You NEVER sit on your life jacket.  You don’t want anything compressing that foam!  Got it Newbie?”

“Yes Ma’am.  I stand corrected."  He saluted her smartly. "You know, I could sort of use a little smattering of something and maybe a drop to drink.  What say you?” 

“Sure, I’ve got veggies & cream cheese in the pack, and a few of those water flavouring packets.  Let’s find the girls and have a snack.”   Hannah smiled and thought about the brownies she hid in with the healthy crap.

They climbed over the rocks back to the cairn and followed the sound of snickering to find Neve and Tara covered in dandelions.   Tara popped up from where she was sitting and bowed low before Hannah and Richard.

“Kings and Queens of Narnia, I present to you your royal crowns.”  She indicated that they should kneel and be crowned with the floppy yellow circles.  “Ours are nearly done, then you’ll have to crown us too.”  She snickered and Neve popped up.

“Mine’s done, Tarr gimme yours and I’ll finish it, you’re too slow.”  A few minutes later all four were festooned with wreaths of the sunny, cheerful weeds.  

Richard rolled his eyes to the heavens.  He grew up with a brother and had one nephew – he didn’t know girls and their shenanigans very well – he shook his head and silently wondered how he’d survive the next week with three looney women.

“Small snack and then we’ll carry on?  I’d like to hold off lunch until we get past Little Joe Lake if we can.”  Hannah wiped her hands and scowled at the sticky stains.  “Ah, yeah.  Your crown jewels are a pain the ass – how are your hands?  If mine have dandelion blood on them, yours must be a mess.”

Tara and Neve looked to each other and whistled innocently.   “It may have been overlooked in the planning stages.  Perhaps.”

Most of the sticky dandelion sap wiped away and snacks consumed, the foursome prepared to shove off.    Hannah quietly spoke to Richard about boarding.

“You good to get in after me or would you prefer me to get in last?”  She didn’t want to hold the canoe for Richard if it would insult him, but she didn’t want to jeopardize their his confidence or their safety.  _He's a big boy, he can decide for himself._

“Stern gets in last.  You’re not breaking with tradition are you?  That’s bad luck, you know.”   He held the canoe for Hannah and other than his lips pressed together in a grim line, he climbed in without evidence of anxiety.

They paddled up through the narrows and did their first portage of a whopping 295 metres.  It took longer to get ready to beach and to push off than it did to walk the portage.  Neve and Richard both were underwhelmed by the whole process having expected portaging to be much more onerous.   Hannah and Tara smirked knowingly at each other with their trip mates’ over confidence. 

Hannah leaned over to Tara and whispered, “Just wait until the 790 meters going up to Little Otterslide.   And I’ve routed us to avoid the 1250 portage over by Tom Thomson Lake.  Let’s see how ‘piece of cake’ they are then!”

The only challenge they had on the portage was a bit of stumbling with Tara and Neve’s canoe.   Neve was considerably taller than Tara and had a hard time seeing because their height difference affected the way they carried the canoe.  They decided that on future portages Neve and Richard would pair up for carrying because they minimized the height challenges.

They continued up the East Arm of Joe Lake, enjoying the breeze at their backs.   The gentle gusts meant that those in the stern had to work a little harder to keep their canoes tracking straight but the benefit of it meant an easy tail wind push and the wonderful feeling of it dancing on their warm skin.  Richard and Neve noticed that the further they went, the fewer the signs of civilization they could see.   Canoe Lake was dotted with cottages but Joe Lake had very few.

Hannah had her camera out, ostensibly taking random photos, ensuring she called “turn” before shifting around in the canoe.  Richard had become comfortable with her moving in the canoe and thought it was nice that she included him in some of the pictures.    She had been doing just that as they round a corner on Joe Lake and he saw something which puzzled him.

Up ahead to their right was a building which looked remarkably like Arowhon Pines.  As they paddled closer he saw that it was indeed Arowhon and Hannah captured the look on his face for posterity.   She snickered and waited to hear what he had to say.

“Um, isn’t that Arowhon?” 

“Why yes, yes it is.  Lovely place.  Dangerous decks though – people might fall in, or so I’ve heard.”  Hannah stifled a giggle.

“But why … I mean … well … couldn’t we?”  He stammered in confusion.   “Shouldn’t we have put in there instead of paddling for an age on Canoe Lake?”

Hannah mirrored the thumbs up which Tara signed to her.  “Well, my friend, you have maintained our record.  Every single person we’ve guided who has stayed at Arowhon, has asked the same question.   Leaving further up the route assumes the goal is to save time or effort, but that’s not what canoe tripping should be about.  We’re going with “it’s the journey, not the destination” option.   The feeling when we make camp on Burnt Island Lake would be massively diminished if it was a short, easy paddle to get there.  It's the reward of you get out of it what you put into it, namely satisfaction with a good day's work.   And, it’s nice seeing the gradual change from cottage country to wilderness.”

“I’m sufficiently chastised.  Never would have thought about it that way but it makes a kind of sense.”  He nodded and guessed her to be right.   _Good things come to those who wait. The thrill is in the chase, and all that_

“It’s one of the most amazing things about tripping, letting go of agendas, rushing and efficiency ratings.  It all just floats away out here.   Haha – we all float down here.” She snorted and laughed at the latter.

“Okay?  I, ah, guess we float, but that doesn’t sound very … safe?”  He liked the idea of stress floating away but he himself didn’t particularly want to float anywhere.

“Sorry, it was a line from a tv mini series that was on in the late 80’s or early 90’s.  Yeah, I guess that was a little obscure.”  Not knowing the infamous line from It only served to prove that he was human and not a perfect creature out of mythology.  _Yeah, and thoughts like that have to stop pdq._

Tara and Neve weren’t far ahead, keeping within safe rescue distance, much to Richard’s relief.   Other than the thoroughly unpleasant first time Hannah turned around, Richard was enjoying the experience, relatively speaking.  It was worlds better than the submarine in Captain America or the tank in Into the Storm, not as exciting as the barrel ride in The Hobbit, much less disgusting than the muck in Urban and the Shed Crew.   He couldn’t deny that the scenery was beautiful, rivaling the Pelorus River, and, more importantly, the canoe was much more stable than he thought.   _However, it was down to Hannah for taking it from ‘not a horrifying mess’ to ‘at times enjoyable’._

Hannah’s confidence, serenity on the water, and her quiet encouragement made all the difference in the world.   Sure, Richard trusted her technical skills, without which he’d undoubtedly be a basket case, but it was Hannah’s happiness and tranquility which was contagious.   He wasn’t interested in kayaking or white water paddling but he could flat water canoe with Hannah any day of the week … as long as there weren’t any swells and he had an industrial strength life jacket.

They continued along Joe Lake, talking at times, quiet others.   When they did talk it was about the park and Tom.   Hannah knew that with all the research he’d done, Richard was in line to be a world leading authority on Tom.   Facts were facts, and theories abounded, but those were things anyone could memorize.  Richard absorbed all of the hard data and was in the process of creating a layered, multi-dimensional person.  In Richard’s hands Tom wasn’t a string of separate and distinct pieces, he was a complex interesting man: artist, lover, naturalist, family oriented and a mystery.   He was a man with gifts, passion, needs, and weaknesses and Hannah wanted to know more of him from Richard's perspective.  

Explaining and talking it through with Hannah fleshed things out for Richard.  He felt himself slipping into Tom’s skin, seeing Algonquin through his eyes and that was surreal.  Other than with Thorin, whom he lived with for years, that sort of looking at the world through the character's eyes had not happened to him off set.  He made a mental note to not imagine Hannah as Winnie, no matter how encouraging or fun or sweet she could be, because that would simply not be productive for anyone concerned. 

Coming up to the head of the lake, they worked well together in slowing and maneuvering the canoe in order to beach it gently.  It was their second portage and shorter than the last at only 165 metres.  Had the water been slightly warmer and the levels slightly lower, they would have wet portaged, dragging the empty canoes behind them as they walked the stream.  However it was too cold and the water in that never-never land of too deep for comfortable walking and too shallow to paddle. 

They stopped for lunch and a bit of exercise.   While arms and shoulders received a good workout in a canoe, hips and legs stiffened up from their stationary positions.   After some stretches, Richard was sitting on a fallen tree trunk when he noticed he had a new friend.   A chipmunk sat no more than a foot away from him, twitching its tail and rubbing its tiny front paws on its wee face.   He took a nut out of his cup of gorp and tossed it to the little fellow who stuffed it into his chubby cheeks lightning fast and looked for more.  Richard left a trail of nuts over to, and on top of, his boot and watched as the funny little creature made his way onto the boot and stuffed the last nut into its burgeoning cheeks.   Again, he sat with his fuzzy tail twitching, shiny black eyes beseeching him for more.  When Richard didn’t provide it fast enough, he was rebuked with several very put-out chirps.   Richard laid a new trail, up onto the stump and across his knee.  Chippy made no bones about it, the only thing he cared about was nuts:  how many and how fast.   Richard made another path, along his thigh and into the mound of gorp on his hand which made Chippy delirious.  He was like a mosquito who hit a vein, he stuffed and stuffed into his burgeoning cheeks until they could take no more and then scampered away leaving Richard a little disappointed that it was over so fast.   He was saying just that to Neve when Chippy scampered up onto his thigh and stood up in his back legs chirping him off for being late with the next delivery of the requisite nuts.  Richard meant to set a few peanuts on his leg and in his hand for the critter but Chippy took them right out of his fingers.  Hannah called a halt to the game, primarily out of greed because she was not inclined to share quite so much of their limited food supply with a greedy little rodent, no matter how cute he was. 

“You’re cruel!  He has a wife and kids to support, you know.  What if they don’t make it through the long, frozen winter because you couldn’t bear to share a few paltry nuts.  It’s so disappointing!”  Richard shook his head in faux-disgust as he smirked at her how-shall-I-bear-the-newb expression. 

“Right on, Armitage.  Next week when we are down to the dregs of our rations and you’re hungry enough to eat a horse and chase the rider, what depraved depths do you think you’d sink to in order to take back those few paltry nuts?   I’ve seen grown men weep over the mere thought of gorp!”  Hannah tried to sound stern, and failed.

“Pfft.  Still think you’re mean, denying my poor little friend.”  He admonished her again.

“Yeah, your flea ridden, disease infested rodent bosom buddy.  Wake up and smell the rabies you poor, blighted city slicker.”

The continued to trade insults for the short portage but fell back into their easy quiet once they got back out onto the water.  The lake shrunk into a narrow winding river, holding a myriad of attractions with a wild variety of birds and even two beaver lodges.  It was slow going because they had to steer more precisely and because Hannah spent more time snapping photos than snapping her paddle in and out of the water.

“You know, you’ll get better traction and control if you use a firm grip and give the shaft a little snap when you pull the head out.”  Hannah whispered while she took photos of a family of wood ducks.  “Your stroke is getting a bit weak.”

“Oh come on!  Seriously?  Do you truly mean for me to leave that alone?  That was the most loaded sentence – two sentences – you’ve ever said to me!”  He groaned.

Hannah looked at him through squinted eyes and then laughed.  “I guess that could sound a little loaded if it was said to a PERVERT.  But since I was talking to a mature, adult person, I should have nothing to worry about.”    She chuckled and shook her head.  Under her breath said, “ _I can’t frickety fracking believe I just told Richard “Sex God in Leather” Armitage how to handle his shaft and that he has a weak stroke.   Can life get any more bizarre???”_

“Hannah did you know that sound carries when one’s on the water?  I only mention it because I just heard every word you said.”  Richard dearly wished he could see which shade of purple she was turning.  “What a pity I didn’t bring my leathers.” 

Hannah’s head snapped around to gape at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the affinity developing between Hannah & Richard.
> 
> Pinterest Board for Chapter 11:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-11/


	12. Doing the Raccoon Shuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of our wilderness Richard Armitage fan fiction, Hannah and team paddle and portage all day, making camp on a gorgeous site on Burnt Island Lake. There's an interesting coincidence with Richard's new role and an incident with a raccoon.
> 
> Pinterest board for Chapter 12: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-12/

Hannah groaned.  A brand new internal war raged with ‘discretion is the better part of valour’ pitted against ‘honesty is the best policy’ _.   I could just let his leather taunt slide and pretend it didn’t happen, surely eventually he’ll get the idea that I don’t want to play that game any longer.  Or I could just tell him the truth so that I don’t have to find a mask to hide behind.  No doubt about it, human interaction is far too complicated and sometimes it just sucks hippo weenies._

She thought through the pros and cons of her options and sorely wished that action was as predictable as analysis.    It wasn’t, and wouldn’t ever be, so she resolved to push through.

“Option A or option B?”  She asked.

“Huh?  Wot?”

“Discretion is the better part of valour or honesty is the best policy?  You pick.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like either one?”  He sighed.

“No, no.  It’s nothing bad.  I think I’ve made my choice, so what’s yours?”

“Discretion sounds like it might have lots of lovely denial built into it.  Honesty sounds painful.  What did you chose?”  His lips were pressed together in a thin line, contradicting the neutral tone of his voice.

“I asked you first.”

Richard snorted.  _At least she still has her silly bones._   He took a deep breath and steeled himself.  “Honesty.”

Hannah smiled, she was glad he picked honesty.  She didn’t want to adopt a polite mask even if it meant he didn’t like what she was about to say.   “I’ve recently been reminded of company policy on fraternization with AO trippers.  It was suggested that I might be acting a smidgeon inappropriately.”  She closed her eyes and hoped he would understand and be okay with it.

“Oh.”   _Well there it is_.  _How ironic that she wasn’t just being a professional when I thought she was but now that I know she wasn’t, she feels she has to become so._ Disappointment settled on his shoulders, weighing him down.

Neither could find easy conversation.  The new silence between them was awkward and exactly what Hannah had feared.  The next portage was just ahead and they would have to speak to guide the canoe to shore and beach it.  _That oughta be fun!_ She paddled distractedly, lost in thoughts of the idiotic demands of propriety and civility, surprised when the canoe ran aground on the soft sand of the lake’s edge.Once they were out of the canoe there was too much to do and they switched partners for the portage, saving them from trying to find a way to be polite within the bounds of ‘friendly but professional’.  

 

Tara was caught between a rock and a hard place.  The chilly disconnect between Richard and Hannah was as obvious as the warm connection at the cairn had been, and she struggled with the coulda, woulda, shoulda conversation she desperately wanted to have with Hannah _.   But Neve was right, going into HPM (Hannah Protection Mode) would wreck, not protect._ Outside of work Tara could be a friend, inside of work she had to be a colleague and boss, albeit a friendly one.  Finding and remembering those balances was exhausting.

“Hey you.  Wassup?  You’re awfully quiet back there.”  Hannah asked Tara.

“Oh nuthin’.  Just thinking.”

“Woah, that’s dangerous!   Wanna talk about it?” 

Tara sighed. “I don’t know how to separate being a manager from being a friend.”

Hannah stiffened. “Oh?”

“This morning I reminded you of company policy …”

“Yes …”

“I told myself it was as an AO manager, looking out for the business, you know, not wanting a disgruntled customer if things went tits up.”   Tara jostled the canoe’s thwart back onto the shoulder pads of her life jacket.  “But I think it was me being a bossy friend and not wanting you to get hurt again.  Richie isn’t exactly the best candidate for a relationship.”

“Ah huh. And?”

“And I don’t know what to say.  You’re an intelligent, grown woman who doesn’t need her friends protecting her from life.   And clearly there’s some kind of chemistry or something between you guys. But there’s also a company policy which we both know exists for a reason.  I’ve already seen you and Richard on a merry-go-round and I don’t think you’ve even had a decent kiss yet.   We’ve got another full week here and none of us should be walking on eggshells because of a fling gone tits up.  I don’t know what to say Hann.”

Hannah sighed heavily, “I’ve already told him we have to keep it professional.”

Every cell in Tara’s body bristled.  _If that S.O.B. is chilling Hannah out because she won’t be his bit of fluff, I’ll end the trip right here, right now and kick his sorry ass to kingdom come._    She had to concentrate on her breathing to keep from going nuclear.   “Oh is that why it was Antarctica when you guys beached?”

“Yeah.  Well, no.  I mean it’s why we weren’t laughing up a storm but I wouldn’t say it’s frigid … just kinda awkward for now.”  

“Do you need me to bust some kneecaps?  Cuz I will, you know.” **  
**

Hannah chuckled, “Nah.  It’ll all work out.  It’s just hard because it was a lot of fun and he was really easy to be an idiot with.  But I get it, there’s a reason everyone says not to mix business with pleasure and if anyone should know why, it’s me.  I’m just a slow learner.”

“Hey.  I don’t want to hear you talk like that.  Ridley was NOT your fault.  And Rich is not Ridley.”  Tara didn’t contain her sneer at Ridley’s name. “Look, as your boss I have to remind you about company policy.   But as your friend, well, that’s another matter.  You guys get along and it’s great … and whatever happens after we beach on Canoe Lake has nothing to do with your job.”

“Tarrrrr-a …!” Hannah warned.

“I’m serious.  You like him, so get to know him.  Just …  hold back on boffing his brains out until next week.  Oh hell, I’m sorry Hannah.  You don’t jump into bed with guys, I shouldn’t be suggesting that you would go to bed with him after knowing him just a few days.”  Tara wanted to kick herself.  Whatever she intended to say to Hannah wasn’t anything like _‘hey slut, don’t bang the client you barely know.’_

“I know Tarr, I know." Hannah chuckled, "Your hair would curl if you heard some of the things I’ve said though. I’ve shocked my socks off.”

“As long as that’s the only thing coming off … but seriously, I’ve given you the obligatory manager tripe and the rest is me just wanting to be a friend.  So I promise not to be a pain about this.  You do whatever you need to do!”   Tara shrugged and shifted the canoe.

“Thanks, Tarr.  You know I love you, right?”  Hannah’s relief that there was no tension with Tara was palpable.  She didn’t think she could cope with two people being upset with her at the same time.  “Oh, we’ve got about 15 feet to the shore.”

With the 435 metre portage complete, the foursome readied their canoes for the next leg of their journey and continued along into Baby Joe Lake. 

 

Hannah was a woman who spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about saying the wrong thing.  Sometimes the worry over making someone angry or hurt or worry over looking foolish was crippling.  It kept her from saying what needed to be said and the cost was very high in that department.  _Richard isn’t going to be around for long anyway so why bother fretting about saying the wrong thing?_   She snorted because apparently the filter between her brain and her mouth went on the fritz the moment he first shook her hand.  _Maybe if I speak up, things will only get better.  Maybe._  

“Richard?” 

“Yes?”

“Fast Fact?”

He sighed.  _It’s better than nothing; better than the awkward silence of the last two hours, but it’s less than I’d like. Maybe it's an open door.  Maybe if I follow her lead. Maybe._ “Well, let’s see.   Tom’s parents’ names were John and Margaret.  My first big role was John who was in love with Margaret and my parents’ names are John and Margaret.   It sort of feels like I was destined to play Tom.”

“Wow!  Really?  No way. You’re just pulling my leg!”

“No, I’m serious.  My Mum and Dad are Margaret and John.  I played John Thorton to Daniela Denby-Ashe’s Margaret in North and South and Mr. & Mrs. Thomson’s names were John and Margaret.  I’m not taking the piss!  And, you know, I should never have even heard of this film.  It was just a fluke that I was sitting beside JJ at that awards night.  So, here I am, battling a life-long fear to fulfill my destiny.”  Richard chuckled.

“That is really cool.  A little creepy, but really cool.  Was that what made you take the part?”

“No, not at all.  It was sort of a surprise that I got hired because I’m 6 years older than he was when he died but I’d already signed on and was doing research when I discovered the names coincidence.”  Richard smiled at the memory.

Richard and Hannah continued to talk about Tom and of Richard’s work as they paddled their way up through Baby Joe Lake.  While he appreciated Hannah’s interest in Tom and the little tidbits she fed him about Tom’s legend, he noticed his questions about _her_ were answered jokingly and she quickly turned the conversation back to Tom.

They were at the top of Baby Joe readying for their last portage of the day, a short 200 metres around a dam, which would put them into Burnt Island Lake.  Hannah longingly anticipated making camp.  It had been a long day, complete with an abundance of emotional exhaustion and she really needed some personal space.   She didn’t want to talk to Tara, Richard or herself for the rest of the day, but those damnable human interaction rules wouldn’t allow her to ignore her companions.  _Unless something unexpected pops up, I’ll be able to go out for a solo paddle once everything is seen to!_ Thought of that respite made her increasing tetchiness bearable. 

 

Burnt Island Lake was big and beautiful with a few little islands and larger Caroline Island which was big enough to camp on.  Other than the Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR) campsite signs, and the sites themselves, there was no other hint of mankind.  Gentle lapping waves buffeted the canoe when they stilled their paddles and floated on the deep blue water.  She turned her face to the sun, warming her skin and her heart as the fresh air and scents of rippled water and endless forest filled her lungs.  The verdant wildness of the place was an instant balm to the soul and Hannah never met anyone who wasn’t affected by it.  _I bet he looks a beatific as I feel right now.  I should turn around, but ..._

In order to minimize the human footprint on the park, the MNR selected spots appropriate for camping and with the least impact on the environment;  each site had a privy box, aka slammer,  and a fire pit, other than that it was simply part of the wilderness.  Hannah and Tara had pre-chosen a site past Caroline Island which provided a sweeping view of the lake.  Hannah smiled as Richard and Neve both gave a shout when they spotted the orange MNR sign nailed to a tree just behind the granite boulders on the lake’s shore.  

Hannah laughed as Richard got out of the canoe and kissed the rocks.  He was a happy camper; a camper who was ecstatic to be on solid ground and off the bleeding water.

“A little dramatic aren’t we?”

“Ohhhhh you have no idea.”   He hugged a tree and sang to it.

“All righty then.  You have fun with your tree.  The rest of us humans will be over here setting up camp.  When you two can tear yourselves apart, how about you pull out the pitas, peanut butter and jam and make some snackies for us?”  She shook her head in amusement and joined the other two in camp set up duties.

She glanced over at him from time to time and he seemed to have settled.

Sleeping arrangements had been a matter of great debate with three of one gender and one of the other complicating matters.  It would have been most efficient to have two tents of two but that wasn’t going to work with one ‘boy’ in camp.   Eventually they decided on a three-man and a one-man and were confident they’d be able to find spots big enough to pitch both tents.  They scouted out the campsite and found two areas which were relatively flat with a minimum of roots and rocks. They laid down the ground sheets and in a few moments, the two dome tents were put up and pegged.

 

Hannah shimmied up a tree and strung ropes for their tarps around sturdy branches.  From where she was perched, she had a broad view of their site and the lake and found several potential spots where they could hang their bear bag and clothes line.   She glanced down and saw Richard sitting with his back against a fallen stump, munching on a pita and peacefully staring out over the water.   He looked so calm it was hard to imagine how _not_ peaceful he’d been a very short time ago.   

Movement caught her eye and she spotted a raccoon scampering along the forest floor towards Richard.   It would be cute like it was with the chipmunk but raccoons were a horse of a different colour.  They had the ability to cause damage and could be aggressive with humans, especially the ones who were willing to go near people in the daytime.   She was just about to warn Richard when the raccoon began yanking things out of the daypack and tossing them on the ground.   Hannah laughed until the raccoon found their pitas and tried to tear the bag open.

“Richard.  Pita thief at 4 o’clock.”

Richard turned around to see the raccoon and shouted, which scared the raccoon well enough, but it grabbed the bag of pitas firmly in its paws and scampered away into the forest.

“Richard.  We need those pitas. Don’t let him get away.”

Richard grunted as he took off running, clapping his hands and making crazy noises.

“Drop my pitas you manky bastard.  Warghhhh.”

The sight of a great big man, waving and shaking his arms, chasing a raccoon and demanding it unhand his pitas struck Hannah as one of the most absurdly hilarious things she had the privilege to witness.  She was giggling so hard she couldn’t get down from the tree, but nearly fell out of it.

“It’s okay!  I got the pitas.  Our dinner’s safe!”  Richard held the bag of pitas over his head like a grand prize.  _If she freaked out about giving a little gorp to a chipmunk, she’d certainly be relieved that I rescued the pitas from that monster raccoon._

He was so earnest and proud of his victory it was more than Hannah could bear.  She laughed so hard she could barely hang onto the tree and sprouted a wicked case of hiccups.

“Ha ha ha.  Now come down from that tree, oh ye of little help.”  Richard

“Can’t breathe.”  She had the sort of laugh which, when continued too long,  hurt her stomach and cheeks.   “You … coon … grrrrrrr.”  She  whirled one arm around mimicking Richard’s spastic raccoon dance.

“Yeah, very funny. I’m the idiot.   And what, pray tell, are you doing up a tree?  Hmmm?  Scared of a little raccoon are we? How do you manage to survive out here?”  He had a ridiculous, and completely unjustified, smug look on his face.

“Well, Grizzly Adams, I was up here stringing tarps and scouting branches for our bear bag and clothes line.   If you were helping set up camp instead of offering food sacrifices to mangy raccoon gods you’d know that.  Hmmm?”  The hiccups interrupted every six or seventh word making her sound like a looney.   “Now come take this rope and tie it off on that tree over there.”

“Yes, General.”  He saluted and snapped his heels together smartly.  He caught the rope and tied it off on the tree she pointed to, which, with the combined effects of hiccupping, throwing the rope, and laughing was not easy for her to do.

The rest of camp set-up was completed without a hitch and Hannah sent the three others off to collect wood for their fire while she prepared their meal for cooking.   By the time they returned with armfuls of fallen branches Hannah had filled two collapsible water bags, filtered water into two of their largest pots and had all of the ingredients out to make supper.

“What’s for tea, dear chef?”  Richard asked.

“We’re going for more wood. Heading west north west-ish.”  Tara and Neve waved and resumed their fuel collection mission.

“Yeah okay Tara. Um, we’ll have the rest of the cucumbers from today’s lunch, mushroom soup and pasta carbonara.  Oh and the rest of the fruit and brownies from lunch too.”  She surveyed her kingdom and approved.  “Now if you’d be so kind as to gather some small tinder and start a fire, we’ll get ‘er done.”   She smiled at his hesitant expression.  “I take it you weren’t a boy scout?”

“That obvious, huh?   I’m a quick study though.”

“Okee dokee.  C’mere.:  She gathered up some twigs, pine needles, leaves, and fallen bark, motioning for him to do the same.   She piled it in the centre of the fire pit with an odd looking 'cupcake'.  "We use these for fire starters, they’re just sawdust, wood chips and paraffin in a muffin cup.  We stack the kindling around it in a conical shape, without completely covering it, and once we have the kindling  and logs set, we just light the edges of the muffin cup and poof, there’s your fire.  We don’t use them every time but things are still a bit damp from yesterday’s rain so the fire-starter cupcake will help it along.”

“I saw something like these at AO but they were quite a bit thicker.”

“Yeah, we hate those, they suck.  Tara and I make our own and we have a much better sawdust, chips, wax ratio.  So, gather up the kindling like so and form a teepee of sticks over it then we can start adding three bigger chunks of wood, again in a teepee.”  Hannah nodded and encouraged him but he really didn’t need much help once she explained it.  _He is a quick study just as he said.  A woman's gotta love a man who's a quick study. STOP THAT!  Stop that right now Hannah Reading!_

“So how do you make spaghetti carbonara?  Don’t you need cream and bacon?  I may have missed it but I didn’t see a refrigerator.”   Richard asked, wondering what kind of wretched food poisoning they would have to endure.  He noted a vast quantity of zipper bags filled with home-made ingredients and he wasn’t overly optimistic.  He had some experience with MRE’s and knew they could be quite palatable so he was disappointed they didn’t have any of those in their provisions.

“What?  You missed me portaging the Sub-Zero?  Tsk, tsk, tsk.   Naw, we don’t have anything which needs a cooler.  Dehydrated ingredients are our friends out here.  There are lots of things available in the local grocery store that work well too.   Let’s see, tonight I’m using Butter-Buds, powdered milk, garlic, olive oil, parmesan, a bit of flour and that microwave bacon.   I didn’t have time to dehydrate pancetta or we’d use that and it’s far, far superior.  I made the mushroom soup mix at home so that just needs hot water and some time to simmer.  It’s going to take a bit for the fire to burn down and give us the kind of coals we need for cooking, but if you want to make up the milk you could do that now.  Here’s the bag of powdered milk with the water proportions, and the measuring cup.  You can make it in this jug.”  

While Richard was making the milk, Hannah sliced up the cucumbers and set them in a bowl with a splash of rice wine vinegar and a sprinkle of Herbs de Provence.

“You should go get your bed ready.  Once the sun starts going down, it’s pitch black in there.  You can't use candles in a tent and there's no sense wasting batteries.  Come back when you’re done and you can be my sous chef.”  She shooed him away with a wave of her hand.

Once the fire produced the optimal coals, it only took half an hour to make dinner.  Hannah hummed as she sweated out the bacon and made the sauce, asking Richard for tools and ingredients just as a surgeon asks for instruments.

Supper was pleasantly subdued, everyone tired from sunshine, fresh air, a long day’s paddle and the work of setting up camp.   Richard and Neve were ready to sit back and enjoy the evening sun as it prepared to set. 

“Sorry campers, no rest for the wicked.  We have to clean up – work before play.”  Hannah was sympathetic but unyielding.

“Awww Mom, why you gotta be so cruel?  There’s a sunset with our name on it!”  Neve pleaded with puppy dog eyes.  "Just look at those colours over there.  Have you ever seen purples and peaches and indigos like that?"

“Yeah, I’m a colour blind prison warden.  But seriously, probably the biggest risk to our health and welfare is food, or more precisely critters of all shapes and sizes getting into it.  We have to wipe every possible trace of anything edible from camp and get the aromas dissipated long before bedtime.  Once everything is cleaned up, we’ll put all consummables into the bear bag and it’s there until breakfast.   You have to be absolutely obsessive about making sure there is no food, treat, snack, drink or anything with an appealing scent left in your tent, pockets, packs or anywhere – I mean it, we have to be totally A-R.  Mice, beetles and raccoons are a nuisance and bears will tear through anything if they think there’s a meal to be had.  Deer and moose can also be attracted by the smell which can prove to be a menace as well.”

“I read about them, may I do it?”  Richard asked.

“Certainly, I’d be thrilled not to have to get the rope over the branch, I have a tendency to get beaned by the dumb stone.”  She grinned and winked.  “When I was tying up the tarp ropes I found a good tree.  Decent branch about twenty feet up and no other big branches around it.  Should do the trick.”

They completed their kitchen clean up and double checked the camp for any hidden or forgotten morsel of food.   Confident they were sufficiently thorough; Richard put a medium size stone in the old cell phone case and attached a length of p-cord to it.  He took aim and tried to throw the rock-in-a-sack over the tree branch. Tried – exactly eleven times before the rock went over and fell to the ground _without_ Richard letting go of his end of the rope, which happened twice.    Eventually the p-cord was secured over the branch and the bag, with all foodstuffs and cooking gear, safely hoisted off the ground, away from critters.

“I had a sort of a problem with the sleeping pad.  I don’t think I set it up correctly.  Could you take a look?”  Richard asked sheepishly.   He did not enjoy appearing helpless, in fact it ate at him.  All evening he had to remind himself that Hannah and Tara were there so that he could learn and _not_ be helpless.  But it stuck in his craw and, well, it embarrassed him.

“Oh yeah, you’ve got one of the new Therma-Rests and I think the valve was quite tight on it if I remember correctly.”  Hannah got up and went into his tent.  “Yep, that’s the problem.  You weren’t doing anything wrong, this valve is just a bugger.”  Hannah struggled with it, swearing a blue streak under her breath.  Eventually the valve gave way and she huffed a sigh of relief.  “Here we go, it’s self-inflating as advertised.  Just remember, lefty-loosey, righty-tighty.  And that one is wicked tight.” 

“Thanks Hannah, you’re a lifesaver … or at least a backsaver.”  He appreciated everything she did for them.

“Hey, no probs.  Actually, I _am_ a lifesaver and I have the certificate to prove it.” She laughed, “But really, it’s what I’m here for Richard … and I’m glad to do it.”  Her brow wrinkled as she saw him scowl.   _What's his problem?  This looks like the perfect time to go for a solo paddle.  I've had quite enough human interaction for one day._

She was climbing out of Richard’s tent when he wrapped his fingers around her arm and gently tugged her back.

“Hannah, I know that’s why you’re here.  It’s your job to keep us safe and teach us about this wilderness.  I forget sometimes, because you’re so good at it, but you’re here because you’re paid to be here and I –“

Bewilderment creased her brow as she wrenched her arm from his hand and bolted from the tent.

“Hannah, wait!  Let me finish.”  Richard called after her.

“Oh, you’re finished. Leave me alone Richard. I’m clocking out of my ‘job’ for the day.” Hannah snatched her life jacket off the clothes line and marched over to the fire where Tara and Neve sat, enjoying a thimble’s worth of port.

“Keep the fire built up.  I’ll be on the lake.”  Hannah hefted one of the canoes onto the rocks so that its hull would look bright in the moonlight and act as a landmark of sorts from the water.    She grabbed her canoe and paddle and climbed in.   She paddled a couple hundred feet out into the inky dark lake and took bearings. 

The fire was visible from the water and, conveniently, directly under the already visible North Star.  She stretched her feet out in front of her and let tears of frustration flow.   Hannah was sick to death of the stupid emotional roller coaster.  She was laughing one minute, furious the next, then up popped tears, or a kiss, or ....  _Damn him!  I kissed that stupid man!_   _Okay, so it was a peck on the cheek but to me it’s pretty damn rare to kiss a guy and it wasn’t … it wasn’t done lightly.  He pulled me back into his tent and talked to me like I was a prostitute or something; as if everything I say and do is because I’m paid to._ She pulled a face and imagined a him with a sulky voice: _‘Ooooooooh, you’re so good at your job – do you kiss all the boys for money, Miss Hannah?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 12: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-12/


	13. Nice Trip, See You Next Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe an evening alone on the lake will help ... 
> 
> Pinterest board for Chapter 13: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-13/

Richard pummeled his sleeping bag, wailing on it over and over again, his face contorted in a silent scream.  He wanted to shout out loud, he needed to vomit up the frustration and irritation even if it despoiled the pristine wilderness he was trapped in.  The inability to let go multiplied the anger tenfold until he was shaking, not from whatever the hell had happened with Hannah, but from his impotence at being unable to vent.

 _I can’t scream and I can’t go for a run.  Hell, I can’t even go for a fucking walk._  He was stuck either in a tent, in front of a fire pit, or on a rock; all of which were within 20 feet of each other and included two annoyingly happy women.   Sitting on a rock looking out on a lake?  How very Mahatma Gandhi when what he wanted was Mike Tyson. 

 _I’m done._   He was fed up and finished.   _I’m on a work assignment not some bloody eco-tourism hippie holiday.    I’m not here to have fun, I’m here to learn about Thomson and that’s all.  I’m not here to chat up the canoeing tour guide any more than I chatted up the hiking guides in New Zealand._   Point of fact, Hannah was even less appropriate because Algonquin was for work, paid for by work, whereas his Kiwi treks had been for simple pleasure.  

 _I'm over it.  I’m done._  He didn’t care how contagious it was when her lips twitched up in that smile she tried to suppress or how her eyes warmed whenever she looked at him.  It was completely irrelevant that he felt a tingle up his spine when they first shook hands and it had never really gone away.  _It doesn’t matter. Not in the least._  

 _I’m bloody sick of the drama._   In the less than four days they spent as much time, if not more, being at odds as they had actually enjoying each other’s company.   _It’s too much work for a fortnight acquaintance; far, far, far too much work.   Granted, I may have played a hand in the troubles, but damn it, such gigantic misunderstandings so early on could only bode ill for the future.  What future?  I’m gone in a week.  Good riddance._

 It was nothing but a waste of his time and concentration to have a personal relationship with Hannah, not to mention a misuse of his employer’s resources.   _No, no more of that._   _I’ll focus my energy on Tom and that will be all._  It could be a benefit to get to know Neve as Winnie but he doubted she would have much to offer in that direction.  He knew more about Winnie than Neve did and they already had good communication, adequate professional trust and sufficient chemistry so he needn’t bother to intensively invest in her either.

There was a reason for his ‘not with anyone at work’ maxim but it needed amending to ‘not with anyone remotely connected with work’.   Yes, that would be his new code, the one which would stave off unpleasantness like that which he was currently ‘enjoying’.

_If only she wasn’t so bloody stubborn.  All of it could have been avoided if she’d just let me finish one lousy sentence.  Five seconds of her time and there’d be none of her bloody tears and no need for me to kill or fuck someone.  Doesn’t matter, I’m done._

Okay, so it grated on his nerves when she said she was only doing her job. But that was stupid and he knew it – the technical stuff might have been her job but everything else was Hannah, the woman.  _I was just trying to tell her that I knew it was her job which brought us together, but it was her that made me glad to be here.  Hell, I might even have asked her a hug to seal our successful reconciliation._  With a snort he could see his Gran waggling her finger at him and saying, “Now Rickie, you know what thought did.”   He never did find out what thought did, but he supposed it was Gran’s way of saying ‘don’t assume’.

 

Well that was all water under the bridge.  He put paid to anything remotely personal and that was that.  It didn’t matter that he was irked by her stubborn refusal to hear him out or that she thought ill of him.   He looked out towards where he thought her to be on the lake but couldn’t see the silhouette of her canoe and pressed down a momentary flutter of concern.  _Hannah wanted to be alone?  Fine.  She's gonna bite my head off?  Who cares?  She clocked out for the day? Good.  She wanted work to rule?  Perfect!  I will comply.  Gladly._

Richard pulled open the stuff sack which contained his punching bag, aka sleeping bag, and spread it out over his sleeping pad.  “G’night ladies.”  He called out as he zipped up the tent, removed his trousers and climbed into bed, muttering under his breath the entire time.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

“What was that about?”  Neve asked Tara.

“The hell if I know.  I thought they worked out whatever had them pissy this afternoon.  I mean, they made supper together and were in fine form right up until she went to help him with his Therm-a-Rest.”  Tara gasped, horrified, “You don’t think he tried something or forced himself on her, do you?  I’ll kill him!”

“No!!!  That’s not Richard, not even a little bit.  He would never do anything like that, I’m sure of it.  Well, 99.9% sure, I guess ultimately anyone can do anything, but I’d bet the farm that he didn’t, you know...  I dunno what happened but it’s kinda … not great.”  Neve wet her lip with her tiny bit of port and frowned.

“Yeh, it’s ‘not great’.  I still have a sneaking suspicion that I’m gonna have to kick his ass.”   Tara grumbled.

“For someone who’s all about not mixing business with pleasure, you’re really very bad at it!  You’re the most ‘everything is personal’ person I think I’ve ever met! And, well, I love it!    I think you’re great and I’m super grateful we didn’t end up with stodgy guides who can’t talk about anything other than work.   You know, I don’t think this is only a service provider / client relationship.  It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”  Neve smirked.  “Now, if we could just get those two to declare _another_ truce, everything would be perfect.”  Neve and Tara both nodded and took another taste of their port.  “So what, if anything, are we gonna do about it?” 

“Well, the first thing is to get Her Highness in off the lake.   If I know her, she’ll fall asleep out there and drift off to Timbuktu.  C’mon.”  Tara slipped her flashlight’s handle around her wrist and stood up.  “Bring yours too.”

They walked down to the rocks at the water’s edge and scanned for Hannah’s canoe.  Unable to see any shape or hint of her, Tara pulled up her flashlight.

“Okay, so we’ll both flash off and on in a steady pattern, with slightly more on than off.  But whatever you do, don’t do long short long or you’ll freak her out,   The only Morse Code we know is SOS.  I’ll point my flashlight at 10:00, you do yours at 2:00.  ‘Kay?” 

“Got it, Boss.”   Neve chuckled and used the flashlight to signal as Tara instructed.  “So how long do we do this?   And … should I be worried?”

“We’ll do 5 minutes on, 5 minutes off for a while and if that doesn’t work, we’ll use the whistle.  I’m not worried in the least, I just want her back, mostly for our convenience; one of us has to stay up until she’s back just to monitor the fire and watch for SOS.   The moon’s not so bright as to make it easy to find your way back if, or should I say when, you drift.    There’s no one I’d trust more out there, but it would suck if she got lost tonight and had to spend tomorrow looking for our camp.”  Tara didn’t say that she wanted Hannah back to make sure she was okay, but Neve understood it to be the most important reason.

“Do you think there is anything we can do to help those two when she does get back?”  Neve asked.

“Probably not.  But that doesn’t mean I can just sit back let them wallow.  If nothing else, we can offer a shoulder or a laugh or kick someone’s butt.”  Tara stared out at the water, hoping the woman who peeled out of camp wasn’t hurting as badly as she feared.

Tara and Neve kept their flashlight signaling vigil without any answering flashes from Hannah.   Despite Tara’s assurances that Hannah was safe, Neve became increasingly agitated.  “Tarr, can we do the whistles?  It’s got to be close to an hour by now."

“It’s been half an hour, but sure.  Why not?  We didn’t see any other campers on our way up so hopefully we won’t scare the bejeebers out of anyone.”   Tarashoved the flashlight in her pocket and fished her whistle out from underneath her shirt giving three short, ear piercing blasts. “We’ll wait a minute, just in case her whistle is tangled or something.”   Tara blasted the whistle again and they heard the shrill answer within seconds.

“Oh thank heavens.  When she didn’t answer that first whistle I thought I was going to go crazy.   Can we make it a rule that no one goes out after dark … or alone?”  The tension drained from Neve’s shoulders.

“It’s a 100% bona fide rule for you and Richard.  I don’t think it’s possible to make Hannah follow it.  She needs her alone time, some days more than others.  But we can ask her to signal with her flashlight every so often if that would make you feel better?”   Tara knew full well the futility of telling Hannah to stay in the group for the duration.

“Yeh, that would be good.  How long before she gets back?  Oh forget I asked, how in the world would you know?  We have no idea where she is.”  Neve chuckled.

“Why don’t I take watch and you go get ready for bed.  Then you can have a turn.   All I’m doing is slowly sweeping the flashlight between 11 and 1 o’clock so that she has a point to steer towards.” 

Neve nodded and headed back to the tent.  By the time she was finished washing up, brushing teeth and changing, Hannah still wasn’t back so Tara left to get ready for bed too.    When she got back to the lookout rock, Neve shooed her off.

“Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll wait for her.   I know you want to talk to her but maybe tonight’s too soon.  Either her time out has been calming, in which case talking about it would destroy her peace.  Or it didn’t help at all which means she’ll be in no shape to have a productive discussion.  Listen to Da Momma, I knows deese tings.”  Neve patted Tara on the back and dismissed her.

“But I –“

“Shoo.  Go.  Get thee to bed!”  Neve flicked her hand at Tara to send her away.

“Ooooo, look at the fancy actress getting all Shakespearean.”  Tara laughed and ducked as Neve threw pinencones at her.

“Twernt Shakespeare.  It was my Mom, she always talked to us like that.  I hear ‘get thee to ___’ and start ducking cuz surely something’s gonna be chucked at me.   It was usually the kurly-kate pot scrubber thing.”

“Fine.  You two hooligans will just wake me up when you crawl in so there’s no point going to sleep.  But let no one say I’m uncooperative so,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I’ll go to bed.”  Tara stuck her tongue out at Neve who promptly pelted her with more pinecones.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Hannah sat back in the canoe watching the sun sinking in the west, taking with it all of the glorious colours painted across the sky as well as its comfortable warmth.   She hadn’t thought of the lake’s night chill when she stormed off but then, who in the world was logical when they were storming off?   She should have put on trousers and taken her jacket but alas, she was still in shorts and a light shirt over a tank top.   The life jacket kept in some of her core body heat but her arms and legs felt like ice bergs.   She was too fidgety to go back to camp and too cold to stay out on the lake.   The only thing she could think of was to build up body temp by aggressive paddling.   She paddled 500 strokes with all her might one way and then turned the canoe around and paddled 500 more the other.   She might not have won any speed records but she warmed up well enough.  

She closed her eyes and listened to the park’s night sounds.   The eerie [tremolo and wail](http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/common_loon/sounds) of a loon calling to another on a nearby lake was one of the most beautiful sounds she knew – and she’d heard Rostropovich with the London Philharmonic.   The crystal stars in the ebony sky made her think in those clichéd, hackneyed terms because that’s exactly what they looked like and she’d be damned if she’d be blasé about it.   She could identify at least 40% of the northern constellations and it wouldn’t be a sacrifice to spend the rest of the night doing just that.   _Maybe I’ll find another night like this one on during the trip, now that would be a win._

Unfortunately she also lost the camp.  Part of her couldn’t care less but that was a miniscule part because she’d be missed and that would cause stress for Tara and The Customers.  If all else failed, she could blow her whistle and Tara would commence the flashlight program.    Hannah lily-dipped while she searched for the lone campfire, trying not to get a chill or think about the comfy sleeping bag waiting for her in camp.  

She had been determined not to think about Richard and _The Problem_ but it was no use, she had time on her hands and an obsessive mind.  Obsessiveness was probably the only thing in the universe which was stronger than her stubborn streak.   Thinking about Richard was inevitable so she might as well get it over with.

It was easier to think through it, and about him, once the initial wave of emotion receded.  She went over every conversation they’d had – which didn’t take long considering they’d known each other for the grand total of four days.  The first ‘fall out’ was a stupid miscommunication.  If he’d just let her apologize and explain everything would have been sorted out on the spot.  _Cripes he was stubborn._

She snorted at that.  _HE is stubborn?  Ha! In comparison to me, he is a rank amateur._   _But seriously, I had to ask over and over just to get him to listen to me.   Who does that?_    She contemplated how unnecessary the whole thing was.  All he had to do was to listen for a few seconds while she explained … which sounded unpleasantly familiar.  _Oh dammit all to hell anyway.  Wasn’t that exactly what he said to me?  He was talking, I interrupted, he asked to finish and I wouldn’t let him.   Fuck a duck, I’ve done the exact same thing to him that he did to me.   Great!  Just._ _Great.  I’m gonna have to swallow my pride, what little’s left of it, apologize and listen to him, assuming he still wants to talk to me. Might be easier if he doesn't._

 _Who knows what he was going to say?  It might make things better or it could make them worse._    That was really the crux of the matter – the perpetual push and pull of misunderstanding and conflict.   It was outrageous to spend as much time and energy on trying to fix something that didn’t exist.  There was no relationship and no potential for one.  There were less than two weeks and that was it.  C’est tout fini.  A few tingles and laughs did not warrant the amount of anxiety which had already plagued her and made her cry.  _Isn’t meeting and getting to know someone supposed to be the fun part?  It’s when everything is new and shiny and happy.   Well there’s no future and the present isn't much more than stress, stress, stress._

Hannah already resolved to be a _friendly_ professional and that had still led into a black hole supernova.  So, she’d take it to _polite_ professional in order to prevent mistaken impressions during any contact.   _I’ll limit all conversation to the needs of his movie.  There’ll be nothing personal, nothing ambiguous, nothing misleading, nothing which could lead to confused or hurt feelings.  All Thomson, all the time.  I can do that.  It’s good to have a plan, plans make things feel less random and I can breathe easier._

After another hour she wasn’t quite so philosophical about being stuck on the lake.   She was cold, tired and the novelty was long since gone.   Hannah had certificates from NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) and could survive just fine for weeks if she had to.  Sure, she could have gone ashore and slept there for the night but she wanted her damn sleeping bag.   And she didn’t want to face a group of worried or angry people when she did make it back to camp.

She growled her frustration at the stars as if they’d had something to do with her plight.   She was ready to let another stream of curses rip when she thought she heard something.   Hannah listened and waited and sure enough, there was a whistle.  _Awww, Tara’s calling me to come in because it’s bedtime._   Hannah smiled as she scanned what she was fairly sure was the horizon for Tara’s flashlight.   _THERE._   There it was; a tiny pinprick of light sweeping from side to side and she patted herself on the back because it came from the quadrant of the lake she thought it should.

She put on the speed and power paddled to get back to shore quickly and worked up a fair sweat doing it.   No matter what her qualifications and experience, she was outrageously happy to hear Neve’s voice calling to her.  

“There you are, you gave me quite a fright.  You’re bad, bad, bad!”  Neve chastised lightly.

“Sorry Neve, didn’t mean to worry you.  Tara should have told you that I’m good-to-go out here.  Even if I hadn’t found my way back to camp, I would have been fine.”  Hannah felt the icy tentacles of anxiety gripping her ankles, trying to make their way up her body to suffocate her yet again.  “I hope it didn’t ruin your evening – it’s so beautiful out here I’d feel awful to wreck it. I'm sorry I made you worry ...”

Neve steadied the canoe as Hannah got out and helped her lift it, over turned, onto the rocks.   “Oh no, don’t even think twice about it.  It was breathtaking to just watch the sky and listen to the sounds – they really come alive at night, eh?  There isn’t a wind but I could hear the pines swishing and loons calling and the water lapping against the rocks.  It was better than a symphony!  I can’t imagine what it must be like out in the middle of the lake.”

Hannah nodded, “It’s the most amazing feeling I’ve ever experienced.  Even just being up here on land is incredible to me.  I remember the first time I got to a place where there were no more cottages and I couldn't hear generators running. It was surreal and beautiful and just slightly eerie and disorienting until I got used to the idea of being out of sight of mankind and civilization.   And, well, and now I’m completely addicted to it.”

“SOLD!  I’ll buy a piece of that.  I haven’t been out on the lake like you were but I felt pretty much the same thing after we finished the Baby Joe portage.”  Neve’s voice had the same dreamy quality Hannah’s did when she spoke of the wilds.  “Hannah, are you ok?  Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

“Nope.”  Hannah’s mask clamped shut and she turned on her heel to walk away.

Neve had just caught up to Hannah when they both tripped over a root and fell flat on their faces.  

“Fuck!   Owww.   You okay, Neve?”

“Yeah, I twisted my knee a little but I’m okay.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve skinned my knee but other than that I’m fine.  Ha, we’ll be the Decrepit Knee Twins.”  Hannah made light of it but knew she’d have to tend to her knee to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“Neve, I’m going to get my kit out of the tent and then I’ll shut down camp.  Why don’t you head on into bed and I’ll be in later?” 

“Okay, Hannah … you know if you need to t—“

“Nope.  It’s fine.”   Hannah’s tone was unmistakable.   She grabbed her night kit and said a clipped, “G’night.”

 “Hey Babe, you coming to bed soon?  You wanna talk?”  Tara offered somewhat tentatively.

“Good night Tara.”  Hannah zipped up the tent and went back to the fire. 

She set up the Coleman lantern and opened up the first aid kit.  _Yep, I skinned my stupid knee and there’s dirt in it. Dammit._  It was annoying to have to clean it in the dark but it had to be done.  She used the last of the water from the kettle to wash it out and was in the process of dressing it when she heard a tent zipper open.   It was further away than her tent.  _Oh shit!   Richard’s getting out of his tent.  Oh shit oh shit oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 13: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-13/


	14. Singing Bunnies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best have some nice ripe field berries to snack on while you're reading this chapter.  
> Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-14/

Hannah kept still, trying to fade into the blackness of the night.   She didn’t want him to see her or be forced, out of politeness, to acknowledge her.  

The glowing embers in the fire pit ensured she was noticed but Richard’s manners temporarily didn’t extend to polite greetings.

She heard the unmistakable sounds of him relieving himself not far from his tent.  _Oh sure, he just had to rub it in that he can pee standing up and didn’t have to use the slammer or risk flooding his shoes._

She sighed and chastised herself; it wasn’t his fault he had a penis.  Point of fact it was something she’d quite admired about him only two nights before, in the privacy of her own room.  _No, I shouldn’t hold his penis against him._    She snickered at the innocent remark and immediately saddened.  It was just the sort of comment the two of them would have used in a championship game of Innuendo Banter.   _Yeah, back in the good old days we would have had a laugh about me holding his penis against him._   If she was determined to dislike him, she’d have to do better than that.  A lot better.

After she heard the zip close on his tent, Hannah sat staring at the stars until the camp was, once again, peaceful.  With a sigh, she dumped two bailing buckets of water onto the coals, wincing at the steam and hiss of the sizzling embers.   In the quiet of the night it was loud enough to interrupt the sleep of the women and let the man know she was still there.   It gave her a small amount of spiteful pleasure to disturb his sleep but it was disconcerting to think he was lying in his tent, knowing she was there and intentionally ignoring her.

He was a fungus eating away at the enjoyment of her happy place.  _What a bastard!_     She kicked dirt and sand on the steaming black cinders and grumbled under her breath.   _Only a week, that’s all._ She only had to get through the next week without temper or tears and all would be fine again.   _I can do one week and, with a little help from Tara, it won’t even be too daunting._    In the morning she’d talk to Tarr, repentant and humble, and she’d be able to reclaim her sense of peace in the park.

 

..ooOOoo..

  

The corollary to ‘if Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy’ was ‘if Hannah ain’t sleeping, ain’t nobody sleeping’.   It was a horrible night with Hannah tossing and turning until all hours, earning her the considerable frustration of her tent-mates. 

Richard was in better shape than the women.  He had a tough time getting back to sleep, he could hear Hannah moving around in her tent and it bugged him.  He’d catch himself picturing her tangled up in her sleeping bag, her hair wild and free, seeking a comfortable position, shimmying around, and imagine that the sounds of frustration she made were of a _particular_ origin.  With a disgruntled snort he’d roll over, again, punch his tiny pillow and use meditation to wipe her from his mind.   His last thought before finally falling back to sleep was to ask for a refund on that meditation course because it clearly didn’t work.

Hannah, Neve and Tara were nursing mugs of fragrant coffee, the heavenly bouquet of which was what woke him in the first place.   They looked weary and rumpled, nothing like the chipper, energetic adventuresses of the day before.    He chuckled and picked up the last empty mug, “May I?” to which he received three non-distinct grunts.

When he asked “What’s for breakfast?  I’m famished,”  he received three synchronized death glares and decided it was a good time to go looking for firewood. 

On his way back with a huge armload of fallen branches, the unmistakable aroma of food cooking wafted through the air, something which set his stomach to rumbling.   “Mmm, smells good, may I?”

“Sure, your mess kit’s right here.   Wanna cup of coffee too?”  Neve offered.

“Yes please!  What are we having?”  He looked into the pot of bluish glump.

“It’s porridge with berries.  The blueberries turned it a funny colour but it’s delicious.  If you like it a little sweeter, there’s some maple sugar granules.”  Tara pointed to the zipper bags laid out on the tray in front of the food pack. “There’s hot milk in the saucepan.”

Porridge was never a favourite, but beggars can’t be choosers so he wearily glopped a couple of spoonfuls of the sticky looking mess into his bowl.   He poured milk on it and set it down so he could fortify himself with a sip of coffee first.   The coffee was divine; rich and strong with a hint of something he couldn’t identify but which tasted great.  He lifted the bowl and steeled himself for an unpleasant bite.

Richard was pleasantly surprised.  It was creamy instead of gluey and was full of berries, nuts, cinnamon and vanilla.   “Mmmmm. This is really good.”  He couldn’t hide his amazement.

Hannah bowed her head, ostensibly to take a bite from her own bowl but really just hiding her smirk.   Tara looked at her and rolled her eyes.

“One thing you can be guaranteed of is eating well.  We’ve got the best cook in the backcountry.”  Tara said and pointedly looked at Hannah who was pointedly looking into her bowl.

“I can’t believe you make everything from scratch Hannah!  How long did it take you to put all this together?” Neve asked innocently.

“It’s nothing.” She shrugged and took another bite.  “Neve, you wanted to go looking for berries and wild food.  Just let me know when you’re ready.”  Hannah scooped out the last spoonful of her porridge and rose to begin clean up. She made herself very busy and Tara suspected there was never a pot cleaner once Hannah was done.   Avoidance was a great motivator for overdoing chores.

Tara rubbed her eyes and let out a long, weary breath.   _It’s gonna be a long week if Hannah stays locked away in her shell._    She was glad she didn’t question Hannah’s request to re-do the teams so that Hannah and Neve partnered on tasks and day trips.   On the other hand, she enjoyed Neve and would miss those times on the water or on a trail when they were out of earshot of Hannah and Richard.   They talked about life, the universe and everything and that probably wouldn’t happen the same way with Richard.   The last thing she wanted was to have a happy friendship with him when he and Hannah were on constantly shifting ground.  She could be 100% professional, but it wouldn’t be as much fun as partnering with Neve.

“Hey, Richard, are you up for a hike?  There’s an old deer path that makes for a good walk.  It’s not like the groomed trails, this one’s more like a hint of a path,” Tara said.  “We’ll do some orienteering and you can get a taste of the land side of backcountry just like Tom did.”

“Good.  Yeah.  That’s brilliant.  Will we back for lunch or …”Richard asked.

“Men and their stomachs!  Barely finished one meal and you’re already worried about the next.”  Neve laughed and shook her head at him. 

Tara chimed in, “We’ll take a snack just in case but we we’ll only be gone a few hours.   And I have a treat for you.  You’ve done all the stern work so you get to relax in the bow today.  Sound okay?”  She smiled when Richard nodded and turned to Hannah, “Hann - - lunch will be ready for us when we get back?” She smiled when Hannah nodded and turned back to Richard.    _Feels like I’m at a stupid tennis match._

“Yeah.  So, when do we go?”  Richard asked.  He looked around at the mess in the camp and thought they could make short order of it.

“Let’s pack up and leave.”   Tara looked at him puzzled, he was smiling but he didn’t look happy.

Tara and Richard cleaned up the camp, double checked the tents and hoisted the bear bags.   They shoved off and paddled to a cove back down the lake.   Tara talked about the history of the park and of the Anishinaabe who were the first people of the land.    Richard nodded and made all of the appropriate ‘I’m listening’ sounds but his mind was a million miles and nearly a century away.

He was thinking about Tom, a talented artist who had great friends, a supportive family and who, hitting middle age, was still single.   _Pffft, nothing relatable about that._    Playing Tom could turn out to be the greatest challenge of his career because even though there was a world of difference, there were many coincidental similarities which made him uncomfortable.  He preferred to choose characters far from himself and Tom was a bit too close for comfort.   He intuitively understood the attraction of Algonquin, he too was moved by the beauty and peace of the place.  There was a primitive wildness and danger which demanded respect and the rewards for showing that respect were soul restoring.   The elements were purer and the feelings more primal which was what ~~Hannah showed him~~ Tom loved and Richard wanted to convey.  Tom, not Hannah, was the reason he already felt anticipatory grief at having to leave in six days.  _Tom, certainly not Hannah, is the reason why I'll be returning to this place on my own some day._   He smacked the water with his paddle and was about to let rip a roar when he remembered he wasn’t alone.  _Damn, that woman was annoying even when she wasn’t around._  

Tara had been talking almost non-stop for over an hour and had bored herself to near tears.   If there needed to be conversation on the water, she preferred it to be an easy back and forth not a forced soliloquy.  Richard seemed to be constantly on the verge of asking something and Tara was not interested in sidestepping any sort of question which the asker was hesitant about.  

Any discussion of Hannah was 100% off limits.   Richard and Neve had not seen Hannah on that first canoe trip three years ago.  They hadn't seen the apathetic woman who started on a new path when her paddle dipped in the water on a backcountry trip with Tara as her guide.  It was a trip which changed the course of Hannah’s life and gave Tara a close, much loved friend.  _No, any talk of Hannah is off limits, unless it means I can kick his ass for distressing said friend and I highly doubt that would be a career advancing move.    Maybe I can accidentally leave him on Caroline Island for the week and pick him up on our way back._   

Tara mused about stealthily dropping supplies off to the castaway when his paddle smacked the water sending spray flying in all directions.   _Well, whatever the hell happened between Richard and Hannah, he wasn’t any happier about it than Hannah was_.   With full knowledge that she’d probably kick herself for asking, she went ahead anyway, “You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Good.”

They continued paddling in complete silence until Tara’s impulse control went on holiday.   She laid her paddle over the gunwales and took a deep breath.

“See, the thing is, I love Hannah a lot, she’s one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.  She’s also my favourite person to work with.   Whatever happened between you two yesterday had a very … negative effect on Hannah and I don’t like that, not one little bit.   But it looks like you’re as sullen and surly as she is so that earns you a special privilege.  I’m only gonna ask one more time and then I’ll drop it. You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Thank heavens.”  Hannah wiped her brow and shook off imaginary sweat.  “She’s never taunted, laughed or been mad at a customer before.   Oh she’s been furious with people for treating the park or our equipment like shit, but no one has even made her cry.  I don’t know what you’re doing, but I respectfully ask you to stop it.  And by respectfully I mean don’t get me fired.”

“She cried?”

“Yeah.  She did."  She made a face at him behind his back.  "But you don't wanna talk about it, so we won't."

“Oh.”   Richard rested his paddle over the gunwales and stared off into the distance.  “She wouldn’t let me explain.”  He was so quiet Tara had to strain to hear him.

“Hmmm.  That sounds familiar.”  Tara chided.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How soon they forget!   Don’t you remember a little matter of an overheard comment she tried to explain to you?”   Tara shook her head.

“Yeah.  But … she … oh.”

“Yah: ‘oh’.  I don’t know what you said, and quite frankly I don’t want to know, but if you’re pissed because she won’t listen to you, I’d say you owe her one.”

“Oh.   I guess I should apologize for that.”   He sighed and wondered when his life had become so complicated.  _Why wonder?_    It was the moment they shook hands, that’s precisely when.  He massaged his temples and sighed more than in Series Three of Robin Hood.

Tara harrumphed with such finality it was crystal clear the subject was, thankfully, closed ... not that it was ever officially open.

They paddled along the shore until Tara found the path she was looking for.  “You out first or last?”

Richard didn’t hesitate, “Bow’s out first.  But I can do last if you’d like, I don’t care about getting my feet wet … er, wetter.” 

They beached and stowed the canoe, ensuring it was securelytied.   Tara led the way through the forest stopping occasionally to point out special plants, tracks and twice she identified animal droppings.   It gave Richard no thrill to learn what bear pooh looked like or that he could, from that point forward, confirm that bears do indeed shit in the woods.

Tara had grown up in Huntsville, a pretty town a little over half an hour from AO and knew the history and geography of the area inside and out.   Once Richard said he was going to apologize to Hannah, Tara relaxed a little and shared the local scandals as well as the standard text book information.   

When they paused to look at flora and fauna, Tara also took bearings and explained how to use a compass and to look for natural directional clues like where mosses grew thickest and the direction of flowers and trees.   She regularly pointed out unique features and stressed the importance of finding and remembering landmarks.   Richard thought that using a compass was a simple matter of opening the case and looking to see where the needle was pointing.   Tara’s snicker turned into a giggle which quickly became a full-fledged laugh watching the parade of surprise, confusion, frustration and resignation march across his face.

Tara took Richard through the parts of the compass and apologized for giving him one which didn’t have a baseplate.  She explained the difference between true north, magnetic north and the importance of determining declination.   It was easier to have a topographic map but emergencies rarely provided one even if you were lucky enough to have a compass in your pocket which, when she was off the grid, Tara always did.

With her tutelage Richard developed a mediocre mastery of the compass and map and vowed to never get lost in the wild.   He began to question Tom’s sanity for spending so much time in such a perilous place.   Successfully returning to the canoe without trauma or injury improved Richard’s appraisal of Tom considerably.  After all was said and done, it was rather exhilarating to lose yourself in the forest and find yourself without going mad.  

On the paddle back to camp Richard was considerably more talkative, sharing stories about his treks in New Zealand and different places he’d like to explore around the world.   He asked Tara about adventures she’d been on and laughed at her total revulsion for skiing, his favourite adrenalin hobby.  

“Yeah, so I started off taking pure sciences at university.  We had to have a social sciences course so I took geography and it turned out I loved it.  In second year I took geography courses for both electives and I switched from bio-chem to environmental geography in third year and never looked back.   I worked for an engineering company for a couple of years but I hated living in Toronto and even worse I hated the bullshit lame ass laws which do nothing to protect the environment even when I could show negative impact.  I wanted to come back north and one weekend I was home hanging out with some old high school friends and ran into Will Swift.  His family owns AO – and he told me they were desperately looking for guides and I decided to use a week’s vacation to do one of the trips and they offered me a summer job.  It turned into permanent full time pretty quickly and the rest is history and that was over ten years ago.   And that’s my autobiography.”

“There’s no Mr. Tara?”

“Why, are you applying for the job?”  She would put money on his face being a delightful shade of crimson as he coughed.

“Well, not really, no.  Sorry.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, relax, I’m just teasing.   Apparently I’m too sarcastic and outspoken but, hey, isn’t it your cronies who say ‘to thine own self be true’?”

“Yeah, that sounds like something my lot would say.  What about Hann—“

Tara interrupted, “So what about you?  How’d you get to this point?  Did you go to university?  What did you take?”  Tara asked.

“Whoah, slow down a little.  I didn’t attend uni but I did go to LAMDA and pulled a tour of duty with the Royal Shakespeare Company.  I’d been working quite steadily in tele and then The Hobbit hit and I’ve been doing all sorts of things that I’ve always dreamed of.  And that’s my autobiography.”  Richard smiled.

“It’s a little thin but I’ll let you away with it.    And how about you?  Any Mrs. Armitages out there in the big bad world?”

“Why?  Are you applying for the job?”  He turned around and gave her The Questioning Eyebrow.

She sprayed water at him and groaned, “Ugh.   Not a chance.”

“Nice!  Very sweetly said.  Thanks for that!”  Richard chuckled.

“C’mon Richard.  You and I are oil and water.  So, you’ve always been an artsy-fartsy?” 

“Ah, yes, to thine own self be true! Yeah, I’ve always been artsy-fartsy, I guess.”  Richard shook his head at her.

“See, I’m science, you’re artsy-fartsy.  It would never work. Good thing we’ve got Hannah in the middle as a buffer.   She’s artsy _and_ science.”  Tara’s eyes widened and if she hadn’t been holding a paddle, she would have smacked a hand over her mouth. 

Richard chuckled at her massive slip up in her own moratorium on chatting about the sexual innuendo, Hannah, and her obvious thought that there was a good fit, or something, with Hannah.   They continued trading quips and stories.  By the time they stowed the canoe they were chatting away like old friends and laughing about the myriad ways they were very different people. 

Tara strolled over to the ‘kitchen’ and was greeted with the evil eye from Hannah.   “Hey Hannah-Banana, what’s happening?  How was the foraging?”

Hannah glared at her eyes darting over to Richard and back to Tara, “Fraternizing with the enemy?  Nice!”

“Hey, now!  You told me squat about whatever bug crawled up your ass so don’t give me shit!  And I’m not fraternizing with the enemy, I was being an excellent guide and a decent human being.   Besides, Richard and I wouldn’t survive a week on the outside – we just spent an hour laughing about how much we hate what the other likes. So, not-so-subtly changing the subject she said, how was the foraging?  I wouldn’t mind something fresh for supper.”

Hannah’s glare downgraded to a squinty stare, “We found some good stuff. There’s a tonne of mushrooms, we found some black morels, meadows, and some hen of the woods.  There’s enough for a feast.  A few berries, the season’s not quite ready but we got a handful of wild strawberries, ginseng berries, and quite a lot of bunch berries.  I’m really excited about the plants though, even though Neve thought I was nuts.  We found Jerusalem artichoke, musk mallow, bergamot, wild ginger, mint and some asparagus but I think it’s too woody.”  She rubbed her hands together gleefully.

“Mmmm.  I love your j-chokes.   What’s for lunch?  All this talk of food has made me ravenous.”

“I just mixed up the dough for pemmican scones so I’ll bake those in a minute.   We’ve got pilot biscuits, oat cakes, hard salami, cheese, peanut butter, short bread and jam.  I’m making some ginger-mint tea butI think it’s too warm out for it now, maybe I’ll cool it to drink later, what do you think?   Hey, pass me the reflector oven.  I wanna get going on the scones.”  Hannah pointed to the custom made camp stove.

“Yes, Chef Hannah.  So what do you want to do this afternoon?”  Tara handed Hannah the equipment and her work gloves.

“How would you feel about taking them to the marsh?  I’m really wiped out and wouldn’t mind taking a nap.”

“Ya know, Hann, everybody’s tired, maybe we should all take a nap this aft.”  Tara suggested and winced at the evil eye Hannah gave her.  “Hmmm.  As a friend I want to say that you might want to talk to him so that you can either make peace or hand him his ass on a platter, I’m fine with either.   As an AO employee I HAVE to say that you gotta solve this problem and stop making it uncomfortable for everyone else.”  Tara made a job of slicing the salami and arranging it on a plate.

“I’m not mad at him, Tarr.  I just don’t want to spend any more time with him than necessary, that’s all.  He’s a pretty offensive person and we just rub each other the wrong way.  I can guarantee that eventually there would have been something disagreeable even if the latest drama hadn’t happened.”  Hannah huffed and shook her head.

Tara’s one crookedly raised eyebrow had the ability to freeze grown men in their tracks with fear and she aimed it directly at Hannah.  “Then listen to your boss! Figure out a way for peaceful coexistence because Neve isn’t immune to the tension and that’s not okay.  They are supposed to be discovering the beauty and tranquility of this place, not this … this … whatever the hell this is.  You wanna talk and I’m all ears and hugs, you don’t wanna talk and that’s fine.  But you ARE going to stop sulking and stop making everyone else feel like shit.   Comprenez-vous?”

“Whatever.” 

“No, not whatever.  I warned you about this, now deal with it.  I’ll take them to the marsh this afternoon but that’s the end of special treatment, got it?   On the bright side, I don’t’ think talking to him is going to be as bad as all that, in fact you might be pleasantly surprised.”  Tara tried to temper her authoritarian tone with hopefulness.

“Why?  What do you mean I might be pleasantly surprised?”  Hannah gasped, “Wait, were you talking about me?  TARA, what did you say?  What did he say?”

“Seriously?  You wanna do this?  You really want to yell at me like a child in the middle of a guided trip?”  She spoke very quietly with steely eyes.

Hannah slumped down and rubbed her hand across her forehead.  “I’m sorry.  Oh Tarr, I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I’m exhausted and … and … this isn’t me.  You know this isn’t like me!

“Yeah, I know.  Don’t worry about it.  I mean, you’ve gotta deal with it, but don’t worry about it, ‘kay?  Do you still want me to take both of them to the swamp or just Neve?”

“Both, please.  I’m not up to dealing with _him_ right now, Tarr.  I just need a little sleep so I can think straight and not make a bigger mess.”

“Okay, I can do that.  So now that I’m done yelling at you, can I tell you something?”  Tara asked.

“Umm, yes?”  Hannah picked up the ginger and mint and began dicing them for the tea.

“You look like you’ve been drug through a knot hole backwards.  Just sayin’.” 

Hannah rolled her eyes at her friend.  “Yeah, sleeping for less than two hours doesn’t do wonders for your cover girl status. Gimme a break.  You’re such a rotten friend!  Thank you for being such a great rotten friend.”

Hannah and Tara were exchanging good natured barbs when Richard strolled into the kitchen area.  “May I help?  Smells good.  Any coffee left?”

“Sure.  Can you set out the pilot biscuits, pb&j, oat cakes, shortbread, cheese and … um … I guess you can run the water purifier and make a fresh pot of caffeine.”  Hannah suggested.

“Yeah, I can do that.  Will we need more firewood?  I can fetch some after the water.”  Richard volunteered.

“Richard, Richard, Richard, does a bear shit in the woods?   We can never have enough firewood!   Miss Hannah here goes through it like crazy.  MRE’s would mean ¼ the fires but, nooooo, they’re not good enough for Miss Fussy-pants over here.”  Tara ribbed Hannah about the time and effort put into her ‘scratch’ cooking but she wouldn’t trade Hannah’s meals in a million years.

As they were ready to begin their buffet Neve emerged from the tent crinkled and sleepy.   “What did I miss?”

“Nothing at all, darlin’.  We’re just about to have lunch.  Want some coffee?”  Tara asked. “Ricardo, pour the poor woman a cup, she looks like she’s going to fall over.”

Fresh air, sunshine and a little exercise did wonders for the appetite and made for table manners  of which Moms would not approve.  There was entirely too much talking with full mouths and sounds which didn’t, or shouldn’t, exist in the English language. 

When lunch and cleanup were complete Tara, Neve and Richard left for a paddle around the marsh on the north west tip of the lake.    Hannah took a careful tour of the camp and heaved a sigh of relief when she crawled into her sleeping bag.  Never had a thin sleeping pad felt so much like a RoyalPedic mattress.  She scrunched her wee pillow under her head and closed her eyes, floating on the sounds of the forest by the lake.  She was swept away on the breeze dancing through the trees and on to the meadow where the wild strawberries grew.

The ruby jewels glinted in the sunlight, calling to her to taste their plump, sweet flesh.    She plucked one from its green bed and popped it in her mouth, its flavours bursting on her tongue.  She moaned as she swallowed the perfect juice from the perfect berry.  Craving more, she picked and picked until her hands were full of the succulent gems.  As she reverently took another between her teeth she heard a rustling from behind her.

“They look delicious, may I have one?  Please?” Harry asked, lying on the soft grass, propped up on his elbows and looking as perfect as the berries.

“Of course, here you go.”  Hannah opened her hand for him to take as many as he’d like and popped another in her mouth.

“I don’t want those,” pointing to her hand, “I want this one.”  Harry pulled her into his arms and softly pressed his lips against hers.  His tongue grazed her lip and slipped into her welcome mouth as he plucked the berry from her before she knew what he was planning.  “Yes, this was the one that I wanted.   Do you think I might have another?”  

On their bed of velvety grasses they fed each other perfect strawberries, from their fingers, from their lips and from their tongues.   Harry unbuttoned Hannah’s blouse and placed a trail of crimson fruit all over her chest and tummy.   One by one he sucked up the berries, kissing and licking their resting spots as he went.  He sat a circle of berries around each of her rosy peaks and flicked them into his mouth with his tongue one after the other, leaving tingles to flicker all over her body.  

Her clothes became a tapestry of ripe field berries, each attached to a pleasure nerve and vibrating at Harry's slightest touch.  His hungry mouth sucked them up and moaned his approval of all that was beneath his lips and his hands.  Each touch of his tongue and deep throaty moan made her ache all the more, she wanted his lips and his hands to relieve the desperate need taking control of her body.

He went mad devouring her berries, until all were gone except the sweetest ones he reserved for last – the juiciest hosted by her most succulent area.   One by one he plied the fruit from her body, drawing moans of pure need and delight from her, but his gluttony wasn’t sated and he left a trail of juice wherever he’d been.

“I’ve made a terrible mess, I should really clean it up.”  He said with a sly smile.

“That would be the polite thing to do.” Hannah gasped as the flat of his tongue licked a strip up the inside of her thigh, stopping only when it could go no further.

“Mmm, so sweet.  You are more succulent than any berry.”  Harry continued to lick and suckle, twirling his tongue and pulling her sensitive flesh between his lips.  He hummed his delight and Hannah went mad, thrusting her hips up to him, trying to get closer to his beautiful mouth.   He chuckled and continued to stroke her with his tongue.

She was so close to complete ecstasy, her mind swirling and her body an erotic mess of primitive bliss.   He was poised to enter her when they heard thunderous hoof beats barreling towards them.  Harry covered her from view, protecting her with his body.

“Who is poaching my berries?  Who dares steal from Gisborne lands?”   Guy sat tall and angry on the largest black steed Hannah had ever seen.  She peeked out from beneath Harry and felt her lust redouble its strength at the sight of him, leaving her weaker with desire.

“It was me, Sir Guy.   I picked your berries, I am the guilty one and need to be punished.   Will you punish me Sir Guy?” Hannah said, and smirked at him from under her lashes, “Please?”

Guy and the steed melded into one, leaving Guy 100% man but more handsome, more intimidating and more dangerous.   “Come here wench.   Kneel before your lord.”

Hannah’s eyes opened wide and she looked to Harry for protection but he was floating away on a cloud, waving and smiling at her.   The cloud wore a stripy sweater and smiled a lot.   _Damn clouds, you could never count on them when you needed them.  If they couldn’t protect you from an angry, medieval so-hot-he-could-melt-panties-with-one-look black knight, then what use were they? Or they could at least join you ..._

While she crawled over to where he stood he braided long blades of grass together to form a rope.

“I said kneel.  Don’t make me say it again.”

“Yes, sir.”  Hannah kneeled before him and sat back on her ankles with her head bowed and hands gracefully folded in her lap.

“You seek punishment?  You wish to pay for your crime?”  He snarled at her.

“Yes, sir.  I should not have stolen your berries.”  Her voice quavered from excitement.

“You gave fruit to that clod?  How dare you share with another?  It is MY fruit.  I am the only one who may eat of the fruit.  Aye, I will punish you as you deserve.  Now, clasp your hands.”  Guy used his new grass rope to tie her hands together.  

The rope felt like it was made from cashmere and silk and cotton candy but it was stronger than lonsdaleite and would not give way.

“Have you eaten all the fruit?”  He demanded.

Hannah stared at the morphing bushes and plants, watching them turn into butterflies and fly away. “Yes, sir.”

“Hadn’t you better check, perchance you offer me a lie?”  His evil grin widened as he held out his arms and his outer clothes melted off of him, leaving only his black poet shirt and lace up breeches.  “I said CHECK.”  He growled at her.

Hannah leaned over and tugged on the leather lace of his breeches with her teeth.   She dropped the lace and had to pick it up again, missing several times and having to root around with her nose to get it into the right position to hold it securely.   Each time her chin pressed against his bulging pants, he hissed, making her smile in delight.  As she tugged once again the laces gave way and flickered before chipmunks ran up his legs and pulled off the trousers.  She watched as the chipmunks folded his clothes into a tidy pile and chirped at her before running off into the forest.

When Hannah looked back at him she gasped.  He stood before her in all of his magnificence and at eye level he was covered in ripe berries.

“Well?  What have you to say?”  He snerked at her.

“There are plenty of berries here Sir Guy.  The look firm and ripe.”  She offered.

“Good.  Now harvest them but do not eat them – I will say when you can have your fill.”

“But sir, my hands are tied.  How can I –“

“Use your mouth!  But do not bite or I will have you whipped.”

Hannah shuffled closer to him, and began slowly, carefully using her lips and tongue to pluck the berries off him without bruising the delicate skins - theirs or his.   He was hard as a rock and every berry she sucked off of him made him twitch and moan. 

Her fingers were able to move only slightly, giving her the ability to grip him while her tongue searched every inch of him.   One last berry was proving to be stubborn and she sucked on it too hard – it sprayed juice all over Sir Guy and she gasped as it dripped all along his length. 

“What have you done?”

“A berry burst and has made a mess, sir.”

“Well clean it up!  Leave no trace.”

“Yes sir.”  Hannah licked along the length of him, slowly and firmly, trying to remove any remnants of the berry’s demise.   She licked fast and quick, on top and underneath, and sucked gently on the end of him, bobbing her head up and down to ensure she cleaned all around.   His legs shook as she licked and sucked at the stubbornly stained spot underneath his tip.  She had to use her hands to steady him as he twitched too much for her to manage with just her lips and tongue.  

She was close to finishing him off when thunder boomed and lightening rent the sky.

“STOP!”

Hannah looked around, terrified, and then she saw him.   He was walking in slow motion towards them and he was furious.   His anger flew off him in sparks and she could smell the danger.  He was a mighty god who made Sir Guy seem like a tame pony.   His skin was kissed bronze by the sun, his eyes flashed the bluest of blues and he was the epitome of every erotic feeling she’d ever had in her life.

“You. I told you to leave. Now GO.”   Richard pointed at Sir Guy who grunted from a jolt and looked down at a black hole forming in his crotch.   It grew bigger and bigger until it sucked him into it and he popped out of existence.

“And you.  I told you that you are mine.  You are only mine.”  He flicked his hand and the grass rope flew off her hands, becoming dandelion fluff wafting away on the breeze.

“You.”   His lips crushed hers as he pulled her to him.   “Are.”  His hand snaked down between them and plunged into her, finding her desire matched his own.  “Only.”   He lifted her up into his arms and settled her down on his steel hard shaft, thrusting up into her with all of his power and passion.  “MINE.”   And she screamed his name as her body convulsed around his.

“Yes, I am only yours.  Only yours.”   Hannah whimpered in her bliss.

“You are only mine and we will fuck like bunnies.”  He growled into her ear.

She could hear singing floating on the breeze.  It sounded like angels but she couldn’t make out the song.   The sound slowly came closer as Richard kissed her and murmured in her ear, nipping at her neck and teasing the ticklish, tender spots there.

Closer and closer.   She was lost in his kiss and the feel of his strong hands holding her, stroking her, thrusting together, climbing that mountain of bliss.   Closer and closer until the singers were right beside them.

She looked and it was a multitude of woodland creatures all singing sweetly and offering her their praise.   They were led by a giant jack rabbit and she could finally hear the words of their melody:   “we will fuck like bunnies.”

And she sat up in her bed sweating and panting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe ... I dare you to ever think of bunnies again without them singing or ...
> 
> Pinterest Board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-14/


	15. I Don't do 'this'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah gets caught, someone gets hurt, the brandy is consumed. A rescue is made.
> 
> Pinterest board for Chapter 15: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-15/

As far as dreams went, it wasn’t exactly what she’d call terrible.  Not a nightmare, per se.  However, given her promise to Tara, and the never ending roller coaster with Richard, it certainly wasn’t a welcome dream.  Well, that wasn’t exactly true; there were parts of the dream which were very welcome, maybe even _extremely_ welcome.   Hannah smiled and closed her eyes, feeling his lips and hands and tongue and his – she groaned in frustration and shook it off.  The problem was twofold: being left with the tension of not actually having had the dream’s special release; and at any moment she’d have to be face to face with her muse.   _Yeah, meeting his eyes will not be awkward at all._  

There was no going back to sleep so she decided to get things going for dinner.  She’d planned on Chicken à la King but since she had time, she’d make Erie-Huron Stew.  _Make hay when the sun shines and soak jerky when you’re chilling in camp for a couple of hours._

Hannah completed all of the pre-prep needed for their stew and decided to soak some dried fruit in brandy for dessert.   She was restless with nothing to do and she couldn`t go anywhere with food soaking.   She tried to read her book, a wonderful biography of [Yousuf Karsh](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yousuf_Karsh).   After re-reading the same three paragraphs half a dozen times she tossed it aside in frustration.   She pulled out a deck of cards and played solitaire and couldn't be bothered to care if she won.

The dream left her with a bit of a ... hangover ... deep inside.   She was alone and probably wouldn`t be so again for a while.  _It couldn`t hurt, could it?_    Hannah went out on the rocks at the water’s edge and looked for signs of a familiar canoe and grinned to see that the horizon was clear.   She hummed on her way back to her tent, stumbling over that damn root again, absent-mindedly thinking she should wrap some surveyor’s tape on it so it was more visible.   Humming   _Sexual Healing_ , she grabbed the package of baby wipes and crawled into the tent, not bothering to close the door flap behind her.

Hannah lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, opening up her mind to the sounds and scents of the forest.  Chickadee and sparrow songs washed over her as she cleared her mind and embraced primal feelings and needs as they rose and directed her hands.  She slowly explored her body, revelling in the sensations of fantasy and touch.  Excitement built as her fingertips traced and massaged and circled her sensitive skin.  She was so close to rapture, just a little more, a little further.  She called out for help to get there, “Richard!  Help me …”

While wave after wave of pleasure buffeted her body she did not hear the heavy footfall of the man running to her rescue. 

“Hannah?  Hannah?  Where are you?” 

She moaned as the tremours receded, chased away by the inconvenient reality of her muse stumbling upon in the midst of her ‘paddling solo’.  

“Hannah?  Oh thank God you’re ok.  Hannah?"

She grabbed a sleeping bag to cover herself as he appeared in the tent's doorway.

"Oh good lord.  Sorry, I’m sorry … I didn’t mean…”

“Richard?  What the hell ...?  Get out.  Get out of here!” 

“Richard?  Hannah?  You guys okay?  What’s wrong?“ Neve shouted and came running in a panic. 

Piercing screams rent the air.  With a quick backward glance, Richard ran to Neve and Hannah hastily redressed, running to find Neve lying on the ground crying with Richard and Tara at her side.

“Step aside, please.  What’s happened?”  Hannah knelt down and scanned Neve’s body, finding no obvious injury on first look.

“She tripped over the root. I think it’s her ankle.”  Tara spoke smoothly and calmly but twisted her ring around and around her finger in such as way as to belie any confidence or calm. 

“You’ve got this, right Hannah?”

“Neve, I’m going to check your legs.  Tell me what hurts.”  Hannah nodded to Tara and proceeded to examine Neve, much as she had back on the Track and Tower Trail.   She removed Neve’s hiking boots and carefully felt along her bones.

Neve screamed when Hannah held her right ankle.  Hannah turned grey and she took a deep breath before turning to Tara, “Richard, find sturdy sticks or small branches that we can use as splints.  Tarr, bring me the first aid kit and all the booze we have.”

When they returned she held her hand out to Tara, “Brandy please.   Neve’s ankle’s broken.”  She spent several minutes examining Neve’s ankle from every angle and comparing it to her uninjured foot.  “I can’t believe it’s not compound because the angulation and displacement are huge.  I think her boot can be thanked for that.  She needs to have the displacement corrected, but we’re a long time away from any proper orthopedics and the reduction would be better sooner rather than later.   I’m going to need your help.”

Hannah helped Neve drink half of their brandy and waited a few minutes.  She gave precise instructions to Richard and Tara and, amid Neve’s screams, realigned the bones in her ankle.   Before Hannah wrapped and splinted the damaged area, Neve passed out and, by the pallor of Tara and Richard’s faces, they wouldn’t have been unhappy to join her.

While Neve was still unconscious, Hannah instructed Richard to lift her onto her sleeping pad.  She didn’t want to think about Richard going into her tent and seeing her messy bed and was glad there was no time for that mental madness. 

“She needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible.  I’ll head out in a few minutes and will paddle until dark.  I’ve got a good six hours of light so, I should be able to get to Arowhon.”  She turned to Richard, “They’ll send the seaplane first thing in the morning.  It’s going to be a long night  ~~~~for you three I’m afraid.  You’ll have to take turns watching over her.”

“Hannah, I’ll go.”  Tara insisted.

“No, no. You’re needed here.”  Hannah pulled her pack out and collected the items she would need.

“Hannah, listen to me.  I am a stronger paddler than you and you're the medic.  I paddle, you stay with the patient.  It’s as simple as that.”   Tara held her hand out for the pack and Hannah reluctantly gave it to her.

“Take Richard with you, you’ll paddle faster.  Neve won’t need his help here.”

“You’re right.  If we can get there before sunset, they might be able to send the plane in tonight instead of waiting until the morning.”  Hannah hastily packed up most of Neve and Tara’s belongings as Tara finished packing the smaller bag and then set off with Richard in the Winisk.  Hannah waved and gave a pained smile as they paddled away.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Hannah finished making the stew while Neve slept, tidying up with the plan to take down the camp in the morning.   She doubted that Neve would eat much of anything, but she wanted something nutritious and soothing for her if she did.   _And I’m getting hungry too. It’s a shame to waste it on just me though._  She packed up the remnants of Neve and Tara’s belongings, having them ready to send on the plane with her.  _I hope the damn thing will land in a few hours so she doesn't have to wait until sunrise._   Neve regained consciousness and was in agony, the meager Tylenol and brandy not touching her pain.   It was a long wait for a lovely person in misery, and Hannah didn’t want it extended a second longer than could be helped.

Hannah stayed by her side, wiping her brow and trying to comfort her in every way she could think of.   As dusk settled on the lake, Hannah heard a mechanical hum join the park’s evening sounds.  More beautiful than the call of loons or the croaks of frogs was the sound of an aircraft circling and landing on Burnt Island Lake.

Richard and two paramedics, one of which was the pilot, disembarked and rushed to Neve.   They examined her carefully before securing her into a sked rescue stretcher and prepared to load her onto the plane.

“Thank you for coming back for her Richard.  I’m sorry your trip has ended like this.   I wish you all the best with your movie.” Hannah was distracted, watching the paramedics with Neve.

“Good job – she was well immobilized and it looks like the reduction is gonna be okay.” The paramedic turned to the plane’s pilot.  “Ready?”  The pilot gave the thumbs up sign and the other paramedic climbed in.  Within seconds the engines began the noisy revs that would be needed for take-off.”

“I didn’t come to help take Neve back.”  He shrugged and helped the paramedics with the awkward lift onto the plane. “Thought I’d stay the night.  Maybe sort of help a little.”  He turned to the pilot and waved goodbye to the plane.

Hannah was still distracted, watching worriedly after the plane. “Oh.  Hungry?  I’ve got lots of stew.  I didn’t make the dumplings but if you want to wait --”

He thought her thinking of food in the middle of what was happening to be peculiar but chaulked it up to stress.  “Stew is really great.  Don’t bother with the dumplings though. May I help?  You look like you could use a rest.”  He turned around and pretended to be busy with a throw bag hanging off the tree.  He hadn’t meant to bring up rest or bed or anything which might embarrass her.

“I bet you’re wiped out too. When Al’s on a mission, she goes all out and I’d imagine you two were power paddling pretty hard.”  Hannah leaned down and patted a spot next to her on the log they used for their ‘dining room’ seating.   “I’ll just relight the stove and the stew’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Would you like coffee or maybe a glass of wine?”   Richard opened the pack he brought back and pulled out a bottle of Bouchard Père et Fils burgundy.

“Where in the world did you get that?”  Hannah couldn’t believe her eyes.

“The Pines.  I begged it from a couple on their way to the dining room.  It’s actually a pretty good wine too.  You want some, yeah?”   His forehead crinkles and silly grin completely disarmed her.

“Yeah.  Big cup, please.   You’ve got a corkscrew on your knife.”

“So how was she after we left?  Bad?”  Richard used the blade to peel off the plastic seal and struggled with the corkscrew. 

“She was unconscious for a while.  I gave her as much Tylenol and brandy as I could but she was in a pretty bad way.  Well, you saw her when you got here.”  She shook her head sadly and looked at the wine longingly.  “We don’t have to stand on ceremony do we?  You’re not going to think I’m too hedonistic because I’m not gonna let this breathe?”  She took a sip and sighed with happy relief.

He chuckled, “No ceremony.  But I reserve the right to consider you hedonistic.”   He bit his tongue and wished to high heaven he had a retake slate so he could redo that comment when he saw her pale.  He rushed to cover it up, “So, ah, three times you’ve stepped up to take care of injuries like a pro.  How do you do that?”

“Oh, I had a job doing that kind of stuff for a while.”  She wondered where she could find a black hole like the one which sucked up Guy, her discomfort radiating off of her in waves.

Richard saw her peculiar expression and looked down, keeping his eyes focused on the wine bottle label, “Sounds as if you had a pretty exciting job if you went about rescuing people.   What did you do?”

“I was just a paramedic.”  She stirred and stirred and stirred the stew.  She ladled some into bowls and handed one to Richard, sitting down on the ground off to the side of him instead of on a log seat.

“Yeah?  How long did you do that?   You must have seen much worse things than a goose egg and a broken ankle.”

“Hmm about 10 or 11 years I guess.”  Her cheeks were turning from sickly grey to a deep pink.  She fidgeted with the spoon in her bowl and her eyes darted around the campsite as if she was looking for an escape route.  “Yeah, I’ve seen a lot.”

“Did it become, sort of, you know, stressful?  Is that how you came to Algonquin?

“No.”   She rubbed hand on her leg and stared off into the distance.   “Listen, I’m going to pack up Neve and Tara’s stuff.  Do you need anything?   Are you good to clean up?”  Hannah set down her stew,  filled her cup with wine and left without listening for an answer.

Richard was about to ask if she hadn’t already sent the women’s stuff back on the plane and thought better of it.  She clearly wanted to get away from him and he didn’t need to make an issue of it.  When he heard her tent zipper open and close he didn’t think a door slamming could have been more effective.

He cleaned up the camp, double and triple checking all of the safety routines he’d been taught.  Once everything was in good nick, he half-heartedly built a wee fire.  Sitting on the ground with his back against the log he stared at the smooth-as-glass lake and listened to the loons call to each other.   It was such a hauntingly mournful sound, echoing the melancholy he was feeling.  He felt like a loon, paddling alone in a cold, watery world and calling out to see if there was anyone else left in the universe.    He wasn’t a man given to pessimism or admitting defeat, however he couldn’t help but notice things had definitely gone pear shaped.

His costar was in agony and probably undergoing surgery as he sat there in one of the most serene spots he’d known;  his important wilderness training trip was tits up; and whatever the hell was going on with Hannah ate at him like acid.  He couldn’t do anything right with her and he didn’t know whether to be pissed off or disappointed.   _As if things weren’t bad enough, I had to walk in on her diddling the skittle._  Her reaction made the fact that she was shouting his name mostly irrelevant.  _Mostly, but not completely_ , he grinned.

He stayed by the lake, listening to the loons and keeping an ear out for wolf calls.  He thought about her calling his name.  A lot.

Richard doused the fire and quadruple checked for stray embers.  _With my luck I’ll burn the bloody forest down if I’m not careful._  He would have liked to borrow one of the unused sleeping pads from the girls’ tent but there was no way on Earth, or any other planet, that he was going to ask Hannah anything.   With a sigh he climbed into his own tent and wished for simpler times.

Nearly half a bottle of wine did the trick in making him dozy enough to fall asleep easily but it also did the trick of filling his bladder and waking him up.  He leaned over to unzip his tent to hear Hannah’s soft sobbing.  He sat back on his heels and wondered what the hell to do.   _I should go to her, but if I do, she'll probably go spare._   Ignoring her may be the polite thing to do but it seemed rather cold.

As quietly as possible, he unzipped the tent and crept over to the privy.   With the unavoidable noise he made, her tent was silent, no sound of sobbing or movement coming from within.   Richard stood halfway between his tent and hers, running his hands through his hair, uncertain whether to walk forward or turn back to his own tent.   _It 's been a long couple of days and nerves were frazzled, not the best time to broach someone._    With a sigh he slowly made his way back to bed where he tossed and turned for hours.

 

Richard slowly roused, listening while the song of the forest was joined by the irregular sounds of Hannah moving about the camp.   He could have stayed there, part way between wakefulness and sleep, all day but the smell of coffee was too much of a temptation.  He crawled out of the tent with a huge yawn and had a good scratch.

“Hey.  That might well be the best thing I’ve ever smelled in my entire life.   There is nothing like your camp coffee.   How do you do it, what’s your secret?”   Richard yawned again as she handed him a cup.

“A dash of cinnamon, a few vanilla bean seeds, and just a smidgeon of cardamom.   But now that I’ve told you, I’m going to have to kill you.  Which would you prefer:  tied to a tree with food in your pockets, a paddle to the back of the head or some poison mushrooms?”  Hannah grinned at him. 

“Surprise me.  But let me finish a second cuppa first if you would.”  Richard cradled the cup in both hands and gazed lovingly at it.  “You’re cooking?”

“Mmm hmm.  Pancakes.  I found more berries this morning, they’re a bit mushy but they’ll be perfect.  Can you dig the maple syrup out of the pack?”  Hannah asked.

“Maple syrup, maple sugar.  You like maple, a lot, yeah?”

“Pass me your plate. Yeah, maple.  It’s versatile, doesn’t spoil, and yeah, I like it a lot.  How many cakes do you want?  I’ve got enough batter for an army.”  She was quick with the spatula, flipping a cake onto his plate with a flourish.

“You taking the piss?” 

“What?  What are you talking about?  And answer the question, how many pancakes do you want?”

“Three please.   Army?  Really?  Kind of obvious.”   He poured a dollop of syrup on the cakes and forked a mouthful.  “Mmm, these are good.  Really good.”

“Thanks.  Were you in the army?”  She asked.   Richard rolled his eyes and shook his head.   Hannah looked at him funny, and connected the faint dots.  “Ahh, that’s your fan club, right?  The Armitage Army?”  She snickered at the idea of him having a fan club.   He was a guy to make dirty jokes with and who wanted to overcome a phobia.  He was not a movie star, not to her.

 “Yeah, and don’t you make fun!”  He shoved in another bite of strawberry pancake.

Hannah nibbled at her breakfast and sipped her coffee.  “I guess I’d forgotten about all that.  You don’t act very movie-starish.  You’re a pain in the ass but I wouldn’t say you’re a prima donna or anything.”

“Thanks for that.  I think.”  

They sat comfortably, finishing their breakfast and quietly working together to clean up.   He quite liked that about Hannah, she didn’t have the need to prattle on all the time.  Hannah climbed the tree holding their tarp and clothes lines.

“What are you doing, Miss?”  Richard asked.

“De-camping.  Can you undo the other side?” 

“About that, how would you feel about staying the rest of the week?  Tara suggested it and when I said I couldn’t, she hit me. Well, she swatted my arm, but you have the idea.   I asked Neve when we loaded her on the plane and she said I should do.   So, what do you say?  Finish up the trip?  Turn me into Tom Thomson?”  

Hannah stopped what she was doing and stared at him.   She never considered not going home.   _Leaving's the respectful thing to do for Neve, isn't it?_   Add to that, she had no great desire to spend any further time with Richard, especially alone.   _Was Tara telling him to stay reason enough to do it?  And, he wants to._ “You really wanna do this?  You want to stay with everything that’s happened?” 

“It was pointed out that there’s nothing I can do to help and that if I don’t complete the week, I could be letting down the ship.  I think that’s a bit over-selling, but we are here … so what do you think?”  Richard watched her carefully as she chewed her lip.

She opened her mouth to speak and closed it, exhaling noisily. “Let’s see if we can clear the air first.”  She fidgeted with the thread on the pocket of her pants and took a deep breath.  “The night before last was pretty bad and I don’t want to spend several days alone out here with all that hanging over our heads.   Tara said I should let you explain.” Her head still down, she lifted her eyes to look at him. “So, what were you going to say, dare I ask?”

“I was going to say that, yeah we’re both here to do a job, but you make me _want_ to be here.”  He shrugged and she stared at him.

“You want to be here?  Because of _me_?  You don’t think I’m a job whore?”

“What?  A job whore.  No, I don’t think that.  I didn’t … well … um, no, I don’t think you’re a job whore, Hannah.” He should have been relieved but he wasn’t.  He almost told her that he had, in fact, at one point, thought her job was her sole motivation for being nice to him.   He picked at his fingernails and hoped she wouldn’t press it.

She looked at him for a moment and whispered, “So what aren’t you telling me?”

“That day on Oxtongue, I did sort of think that you were only being nice because it was your job.  But I promise you, I don’t think that now, Hannah.  Really, I mean that.”  He wondered what bastard said ‘honesty is the best policy’ because they sure were a sadistic piece of shite. The longer she stood there, still as a statue, just looking at him the more concerned he became.  _Why isn’t she saying anything?_ He was unnerved and ready to start babbling just to break the silence. 

“I guess I can see how you might think that for a minute.  I did say, pretty loudly, if I remember correctly, that I didn’t want anything to do with you.   It could seem kinda odd for me to be friendly and nice after that.  But I did apologize and explain!  Did you still think I was job-whorey after Oxtongue?”  Hannah’s brows knit together with suspicion.

“No … well … once a little bit.   Hannah, you have to understand the world I live in.  People are nice to me for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with integrity.  Hell, half the time it has nothing to do with me.  I didn’t, I don’t, know what to make of you.  You are warm and funny one minute and cold and withdrawn the next.  A lot of the time it seems you don’t much like me at all.” 

Her head shot up and she glared at him.  “What?  How can you say –“  She heaved a sigh and shook her head.  “Richard you have to understand the world **_I_** live in.  I don’t do this.”  She said as she waved her hand around to encompass the two of them in the camp.”

“What’s this? This thing you don’t do?”  He asked.

“Conversations like this:  thoughts and feelings and being wrong and things that might get bad reactions.  The kind of banter … or whatever it is … with AO clients.  I don’t do THIS.  You throw me off balance and I don’t do ‘complicated’. I don’t tell people off or ask questions that I probably won’t like the answers to.   And … I don’t yell at people like I did at you the other day.” She steeled herself to look at him directly in the eye, “It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that … well, I don’t like being so confused all the time.  I never know if **_you_**  are going to be ‘warm and funny one minute or cold and withdrawn the next’.”

He chuckled.  “Nice job, that.  Tossing my own words back at me; touché.”  He bowed to her.

She growled at him, “I’m not doing anything like that at all!  I just said it because I figured you’d understand what I meant AND it’s kinda ironic that we have the same complaint about each other.”

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have tried to be funny.”

“Funny is okay; funny is good.  That wasn’t it though!  You should know me better than that by now.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?  I hardly know you at all.  At the risk of raising your ire further, I must say, you don’t seem to want me to know you.  Every time I ask a personal question, you laugh it off and change the subject.  I have lots of impressions and assumptions about you, but so far, I know next to nothing about you.”

“Well let me help you with that.  I hate, no I REALLY HATE talking about stuff like this.  I hate it with all my might.  We could talk about any subject under the sun and that would be fine but this, this personal stuff, it feels like I’ve just swallowed a molten cannonball and it’s burning a hole in my stomach.” Her breath was shallow and rapid, in synch with her fists clenching and unclenching.  “I’d rather be alone than do ‘this’ any day of the week.   And yet here I am, asking and answering questions that set my teeth on edge.  I need to go for a walk, I have to think.  This is too much … it’s just … too much.”  Hannah hopped down out of the tree and took the path the raccoon had followed through the woods. 

Without looking back she yelled out, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re okay.”

He stood there staring at the path she’d taken and quietly said, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re okay too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun with the amazing people reading this story and writing comments. From the bottom of my heart and the tip of my paddle, I thank you. You are lovely!
> 
> Pinterest board for Chapter 15: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-15
> 
> PS If there's any self-insert in this story, I'm most like Tara. So when I say from the tip of my paddle ... I wasn't implying that I... oh ... you know what I mean!


	16. Oh Eliot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should I stay or should I go? Playing games ... 
> 
> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-16

Hannah felt ill, physically and emotionally ill.  Conflict, at the best of times, if there was such a thing, made her anxious.   When it got personal, she usually ended up internalizing it and becoming horribly, physically ill.  She knew those things about herself and structured her life to deal with it.  Paddling, hiking and wilderness guiding were her refuges and photography had finally regained its joy as a meaningful creative outlet.   These were positive steps she’d taken and they kept her from isolating herself from the world, which she’d definitely done after New York.  _Yeah, I’m not going down that path again._

And then there was Richard.  _How the hell had he happened?_    He sent her spiraling and she didn’t like it, not one little bit.   Thinking of Richard, she bent to examine a pile of dung on the path.  _Moose poop.   Hmmph.  Richard in the camp, shit in my way, go figure.  Nothing coincidental or metaphorical about that, no not at all._

She’d had to have had a full frontal lobotomy to _not_ be able to figure out the Richard thing.   Oh he had all of those qualities anyone could go for: intelligent; kind; funny; generous; and damn good looking.  He was too easy to like and that was never something she appreciated in a person.   _He's freaking perfect!_ Perfection fell into two categories: suspicious or tedious; but more importantly, _far too fucking intimidating._

She liked that he could be a little broody and struggled against his own nature.    She didn’t particularly like being on the receiving end of his broodiness, but it was something she might be able to figure out how to avoid if she just understood him a little better.  The way they bantered together was worth all the tea in China and if he had a huge, seeping boil on his face, in her eyes at least, it would disappear under the power of their repartee.   _He’s attractive but it’s not cuz he’s good looking.  Damn._ When they were ‘on’, he met her half way with every comment and urged her onward, never judging or condemning her.  His enthusiasm was like unspoken praise and it motivated her better than any vacuous compliment ever could. 

There was another side to that coin and it was the reason she was crashing through the woods in such a tumultuous state.  She valued harmony and was particularly sensitive to conflict, especially with him.   If being in synch was approval which built her up, the opposite was also true.  Conflict tore her down and threatened the internal peace she’d worked so hard to achieve.   She valued harmony and was getting far too close to analysis paralysis again. _That’s not okay. But what’s the answer?_

Hannah trudged through the forest, muttering and frowning as she went, sighing when she reached the meadow.   She picked a handful of red clover flowers and laid down in the grass watching fluffy clouds float by.  She sucked on the petals and contemplated her predicament, wary of falling back into the bottomless pit of crippling self-analysis.  

When all the noise was silenced, it was quite simple: she liked him a lot and when they weren’t in a snit, she thoroughly enjoyed his company.   It had been a long time since she could say that about a man and even though he’d be leaving in a few days, it seemed a shame to waste it.   _Who knows, if I can see Richard as an interesting ‘specimen’ maybe I’ll even considering getting back out there and dating again._   She snickered at the thought of Richard as a gateway drug.

 _Yeah, I’ll stay for the rest of the week.  But there’ll be conditions because there is no way in hell I’m gonna walk on eggshells around him again._    All that was left was the little matter of him walking in on her shouting his name and that alone was enough to make her want to head for the hills.   _Well, he knew and he still wants to stay and he hasn’t intentionally said or done anything to embarrass me about it. That’s something, I guess._ He was a guy who certainly had no problem being raunchy or teasing but he hadn’t done either about her little fap fest.   _Maybe it’s one of those ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kinds of things._

She watched the clouds a little longer and ate a little more clover, tossing and turning everything over in her mind.    If you had to have a dilemma, she was in the right spot for coming to peace with it.  Sunshine, birds, breeze, and not a single sign of humanity – it was heaven on Earth.    _To hell with problem_ _s, it 's time to be at peace with the universe!_   She closed her eyes and let go of all conscious thought, seeking the sounds and scents and textures of her utopian meadow with all of her senses.

 

Hannah awoke with a start to something tickling her cheek and almost screamed.  She squished the life threatening predator and laughed to find it was just an ant.   She yawned and stretched, looking around the meadow and, for the 500 gazillionthtime, appreciated the privilege of having such a place waiting for her whenever she needed it.  She was thirsty and a little hungry despite having chomped her way through a whole patch of clover.   She looked up and the sun was definitely not where she left it.   With a groan she realized she’d been gone for a few hours, leaving Richard alone and clueless.

She hot footed it back to camp, stopping suddenly when she caught sight of Richard.   He was fully engrossed in the food pack, reading one of her recipes.   Tara insisted that no one consider themselves indispensable or keep vital information to themselves so every bag of ingredients and mix had a laminated recipe card or two inside.   If Hannah was stolen by a pack of wolves or succumbed to Beaver Fever the rest of the group would still eat like kings and queens.

He had lit the fire and laid out the cooking gear as meticulously as a surgeon’s operating tray.   She smiled at his serious expression as he picked up each item and checked it off some imaginary checklist, turning it over in his hand and memorizing it.   The good news was that he had set out two mess kits so he musn’t have been irretrievably upset with her for disappearing into the wilds for hours.   She took a breath and stiffened her spine, ready to face the music.   _Will there ever be a time when I’m not on tenterhooks around him?_

“Hi.   Whatchya doin’?” Hannah asked, and picked up a cup to get a drink of water.

“Making lupper.”  He answered, not looking up.

This was exactly the sort of thing that made Hannah want to head for the hills.  She hated – no, hate was too weak of a word – she despised making other people angry or disappointed and flinched at the conflict which almost always resulted from it.

“Richard, I’m sorry –“ she began.

His head snapped up at her tone and he searched her face for any indication of what was going on in her head. 

“I’m sorry I was gone so long.  I didn’t say where I was going or how long I’d be and that’s against all the safety rules –“  Hannah tried to explain but wasn’t saying what she meant.

“Hannah I don’t give a flying fuck about safety rules.  Well, I do but that’s not what I mean.  You took off out of here saying you’d rather be alone than do ‘this’.”  He said pointing back and forth between them.  “What the hell was I supposed to think?”   He closed his eyes and raked his hand through his hair, stopping to rub his temple.

He looked up to see her cringing and all the worry and frustration whooshed out of him. “Hannah, I’m sorry.  That’s not what I meant to say.  I … it’s … I was sort of worried … and …”

She chuckled which surprised him.  “Well, aren’t we a fine pair?!  It’s a wonder we ever understand anything the other says at all.  We suck at saying what we mean.  I didn’t mean to start talking about safety rules … and I’m guessing you didn’t mean to rip me a new one.   Can we have a do-over?”

Richard nodded. “Me first.  Are you okay?   I was worried about you but I guess if anyone can be out there in the wilds, it’s you.  So I was really just worried about myself because I’d be literally lost without you.”  He grinned, “Okay, so that was nicer but it’s not really what I want to say either.  Um … are you hungry?  Thought I’d make linner for us”

“Lupper?  Linner?  Qu’est-ce que c’est*?”  Hannah.                          *what’s that?

“Lunch plus supper or dinner, too late for one, too early for the other but I’m starving so…”  He swallowed and looked directly at her, “Um … are … are we … staying?”

She smiled at his trepidation and was quite sure it wasn’t all about cutting short research for work.   “It’s too late to de-camp today. We have to stay for the night.”  

“Oh.”  He went back to examining the cooking utensils.

“I was thinking, maybe we could stay for the rest of the week.”  Her smile grew bigger when his head snapped up and he looked at her with such evident hopefulness.  “There are conditions though.”   _This might just turn out to be fun, who knew torture was so enjoyable?_   “Yes, very serious, difficult conditions.”

She watched as his vulnerability disappeared behind an inscrutable mask and she could have sworn he grew six feet into an immovable, impenetrable brick wall. _Damn, he can be intimidating and probably would scare the crap out of me if he hadn’t just looked like a lost puppy only a millisecond ago._

“What conditions?”  His volume might have been low but the effect of his timbre and intense stare was booming.  He repressed the smile threatening to betray him when her eyes widened.  He wasn’t prepared for the squint which followed.

“Put it away Rich.  I’m not falling for any of that theatrical crap.”  She shook her head at him as if he were a naïve, silly little child.

“Damn.  Oh well, it was worth a try.  What good is it being, what was it you called me? Gargantua? with years of theatrical training if you can’t use them once in a while?”  He cast his eyes to the heavens in an expression of pure martyrdom.  “So, these conditions …”

“Right.”  She took a deep breath and braced herself. “We both have to say what we mean and mean what we say.   And let the other person do that too, without cutting them off.   And I warn you, I stink at all of it.”

Richard wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but that wasn’t it.  “Yeah.  Good.  Really good.  If we’d done that … umm, I sort of stink at it a little too.”

“Mmm hmm.  I noticed.  We’ll either motivate each other or be co-dependents.  So, you are okay with all this?” 

“Yeah.  But I have a condition too.  If I ask you a question, you have to answer it, even if all you say is that you don’t want to talk about it.  It wouldn’t hurt if you left a clue why you don’t want to though.  What say you?  Can you accept _my_ condition?”   He waited while she chewed on her lip and stared at him.

“You know I hate this interpersonal shit, right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guessed as much.  I’m a genius like that.”

“I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon.  And I kinda like to push you into that nest of rattlers I found –

“YOU FOUND SNAKES?  WHAT? Oh fuck.” 

“Relax, Alice.  I’m teasing.  Sheesh, get a grip.”  She laughed at him.  “Yeah, I can try to put up with your Spanish Inquisition.  If I have to.”

“You know that I sort of hate you a little, yeah?”  He gave her the best evil eye she’d ever seen.

“Feeling’s mutual.   Now look at us!  It’s working already!  We’ve both expressed our feelings perfectly and said I hate you.   This is real progress!!!”

Richard threw an orange at her. “You’re a horrid little person, aren’t you!?”

“Yup.  The worst, and don’t you forget it.   What are we having for linner, lupper, whatever you want to call it?”  Hannah peeled the orange and thought linner was a lovely idea.

“I figure I can handle the shepherd’s pie.  Where did you get all of the dehydrated hamburger, by the way?”  He asked as he stirred it into the pot of purified water.

Hannah shrugged, “I made it.  I do everything I can but some stuff is easier to just buy.  Like the potato flakes, they’re easier and better.  I do my own scalloped potatoes though. Pretty much all of the veg and meat stuff is mine.”

“Why don’t you just use MRE’s?  Are they not easier?”

“Oh yeah, they’re way easier both pre-trip and in camp.   But I’ve been on multi-day trips every week for the last two months and I’m sick to death of them.  Plus they’ve got so many chemicals and if I can have a couple of things which aren’t packaged or processed ... ya know? Want help?”

“No, just sit there, please.  Sounds like a lot of work but I see your point.  Oh, do you want pudding?  You can do the pudding if you wish.”

“Sure, I’ve got the brandy marinated fruit from last night.  I’ll just freshen it up a bit.”  Hannah added vanilla and a smidgeon of the fresh ginger she’d found to the fruit and left it to continue marinating.

They continued with linner in their brand new truce, sometimes talking, sometimes not, and enjoying the afternoon sun.

“So what do you wanna do this afternoon?  I’d like to fill up our water bags and wash my hair at some point but that’s not exactly a group project.  Do you wanna go scavenging for food?  We could have a mushroom stir fry for a late snack.  Maybe play cards or [Mancala](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mancala) or [Go](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go_\(game\))?”  Hannah asked.

“Go where?”

She chuckled, “It’s a game. Sort of like [Pente](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pente) – do you know that one?  The rules are easy but the strategy is awesome.  You wanna try?”

“Sure.  Why not?” 

Hannah went to her tent and brought back the games which consisted of a piece of 2’x2’rolled up canvas and two little drawstring bags.  On one side of the canvas was a hand painted Mancala board and on the other a Go board.  The two little bags contained different coloured beans used as playing pieces in both games.    It took less than two minutes to explain Go to Richard and three hours before he won a game.

“Happier?  You’re kinda competitive, eh?!”  Hannah teased.

“Hah, pot meet kettle.  You’re the competitive one or I’d have won a game hours ago!   And yes, I am a little happier now, thank you for asking.  You know, I’m not sure if I even like the game but I couldn’t go down undefeated, it just didn’t seem very sporting.   May I assume you’ll have blood lust if we play that other game as well?”  Richard gave her a pointed look.

“Maybe.  I’ll admit nothing.”  She stretched and yawned.  “While there’s still a couple of hours of sunlight I’d like to wash my hair.  Did you want to have a wash as well?”

“Why?  Do I smell that bad?”

Hannah stared at him, “No, I didn’t mean that.  You …you’re fine. I –“

“I’m takin’ the piss.  I had a shower when I was waiting for the plane.  So, how are you going to do this?  I assume you’re not going in the lake.”  He was curious about how something as simple as bathing would be done in a place with no bathing facilities.

“Like they did in the old days before indoor plumbing; with a wash basin except I’ll be using the bailing buckets instead of a basin.  And I just use the same Campsuds we use as dish soap.   Easy peasy lemon squeezy.   Actually, when the water’s all ready, would you mind maybe going into your tent for a while?”  She blushed furiously at even asking him.

“Sure, no problem.  Just tell me when to get lost.”  She was so sincerely embarrassed he couldn’t bear to add to it even though he dearly wanted to make a couple of choice comments.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

“Banishment is lifted, ablutions complete.”  Hannah shouted once she was fully restored to ‘suitable to be in public’ status. “Richard?”

When he didn’t answer she looked in his tent window and found him dead to the world.  She was surprised to find that in sleep, with his face completely relaxed, he looked different from when she thought he was relaxed while awake.   Lips slightly parted and brow completely unfurrowed made him look angelic, the thought of which made her snort.  _I can think of lots of words to describe Richard and angelic is not one of them._   But she couldn’t deny that that which was ruggedly handsome in daylight was ethereally beautiful in repose. 

She watched him until Harry materialized with his hand full of strawberries and Guy sat his horse with a wicked smile and that damn bunny did the thumper foot on Richard’s crotch.   With a disgusted groan and a distinctive tingling she turned away from the tantalizing images, certain she could hear the bunny singing his song.

Hannah secured the camp for the night and sat watching the embers of the fire slowly die.   It was lovely but she was restless.   They needed fresh water anyway so she decided to paddle out to get some.  Richard thought she was silly to paddle out so far the last time she filled the water jugs but there was no way she was drinking water drawn close to shore.  _Ewwww_.  _Deep water and as far from the surface as possible, thank you very much._

She stood by the canoe and scratched her head.  Dusk was right around the corner and she didn’t want to be stuck out on the lake unable to find their site.  She could just paddle out, get water and paddle back but that seemed like a terrible waste of night sky on the lake.    The fire was out and had to stay out since there was no one to mind it.   _Rope!_    There was a benefit to being a rope junkie and it was about to serve her well.

She had several decent lengths of 3mm cord, tied together they would give her somewhere close to 400 or 500 feet.  She’d tie off the canoe and go out as far as the cord would allow, not as far as she’d like, but it would be safe.   A few feet to the west of their site was a tree that hung over the rocks which would be a good spot to hang an l.e.d. lantern.  She rigged a rope to allow her lantern todangle over the rocks and provide a beacon.  Contingency plans were second nature to her and she liked that one.

After double checking her safety gear, she gave a glance around the camp and put the canoe in the water.   However far the rope allowed her to go didn’t let her get nearly as far out as she wanted, but she cleared the trees and if she lay back, she could have a stirring view of her coveted night sky.

Hannah tied off the collapsible water jugs and sankthem in the lake, letting them fill slowly on their own.   She scooched around and gave a quick glance to her beacon.  All was well with the world and she was exactly where she wanted to be.  With a contented sigh she reclined to look up at the sky and threaded her fingers behind her head.

The gentle rocking of the canoe soothed and lulled her as she watched the stars wake up.  Constellations became clear as the loons sang their haunting songs.  Casseopeia, Andromeda, and Perseus shone brightly, some stars harder to see, obscured by the brightness of the Milky Way.   Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Orion twinkled merrily but she could barely see her favourite, the Northern Cross from where she was sitting.  _In a canoe, on a lake, under the stars, serenaded by loons; life doesn’t get any better than this.   Well, maybe it could be a little better if I could share it and better yet if it was with the man sleeping just a few hundred feet away._

Her mind wandered to the guy in the tent.   Linner added to her good impression.   He was thoughtful, didn’t mind a bit of work and had plenty of opportunity to razz her about the little diddling episode but didn’t do it.  On the downside, he saw her and she kept seeing them.  _On the upside, I got to finish, hehehe._   With a naughty smirk she recalled his power as a muse.   She loved how tall and solid he was that night she fell in the lake, his arm around her ...   _Those hands of his, whew, they are something to fantasize about – long, strong fingers and … this is a thought path that doesn’t require pants._

She shimmied her clothes down and sighed as the evening air caressed her bare skin.   Her hands followed the path she’d like his to take and it felt glorious.   Every sensation, every tingle was from Richard and she let ‘him’ take his time exploring her body.   Under the stars, on the lake, in a canoe and being brought off by Richard while loons serenaded her – she was indeed in heaven.   Her heart quickened as she touched herself, the heat of her arousal and the power of her fantasy bringing her closer and closer to her second orgasm of the day.   Her moans thrummed in her ears as her pulse raced.

“Oh Richard.”  She groaned out. “Close, so close.”  She felt the familiar tightening of her approaching orgasm and called his name, “RICHARD!” as it washed over her. 

“HANNAH?  Hannah where are you?  Are you alright?  HANNAH?”

“Fuck. Dammitdammitdammitdammit.”  She cursed under her breath before answering.  “It’s okay Richard.  I’m just getting some water.  I’ll be right in.”  She shouted back.

“Frickety fracking fuckety fuck.”  She muttered and grumbled as she fixed her clothes and washed her hands over the edge of the canoe before hauling in the water bags.  “Stupid, fracking, stinking, …”   She was still grumbling when she pulled the canoe out of the water.

“Hey, out for a wee paddle?”  Richard sounded like he was laughing but she couldn’t tell in the dark. 

“Yeah, just filling up our water jugs.  Thought you were down for the count – you were sleeping pretty soundly when I left.”  She busied herself with taking down the lantern.

“Hmm.  Yes.  Down for the count. So, I … ah… thought I heard something out on the lake.”  Richard’s tone was so innocent it sounded like he didn’t think anything was amiss.  “Yeah.  Did you shout out for me?”  He watched her as closely as he could in the dark.

“No. No no no no.  You must have heard the loons or something.”  She cringed at her bad luck.

“No.  I don’t think so.  It was definitely you.  You are a bit of a loon though.  Why were you calling my name out on the middle of the lake Hannah?”  His voice was low and sultry and she could just picture the stupid smoulder he’d have on his stupid face. 

“Shut up.”  She ground out between clenched teeth.

“So, was I any good?”

“Shut up.”

“Did I get the job done? C’mon, you can tell me.”  He goaded.

“Oh would you please Just. Shut. Up.?!”

“Second time today, yeah?  I guess I’m doing okay if I get a repeat performance.” Richard did a piss poor job of containing his laughter.

“Yeah, well your run is over, Mister.”  She whinged.

“Oh no.  And here I thought the critics were in my favour. The play closes after two shows.  That’s so sad.” 

“Lot you know.” She mumbled under her breath.

“What’s that?  What did you say?”  He asked, having heard exactly what she said.

“Nuthin’.  Can you please shut up now?”  There were not enough words to describe the shade of her face.  “Pfffft, boy was I wrong.  I was thinking how nice you were to not bring up this afternoon.”

He was shaking from a case of the giggles and elbowed her in the ribs, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you were thinking.  That’s what gets you off, riiiiight.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, no rebuttal, not even a lame one, would come to her.  She sputtered and wanted to punch him in the stomach so badly she was trembling.

Richard stopped too, “Hey, it is sort of funny, eh?”

She shook her head and though he couldn’t see her clearly, it wasn’t rocket science to figure out she was disagreeing.

“You do know that you’re not the first person in the world to have a bit of a wank from time to time, yeah?” He waited for an answer but didn’t get one. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

She let out a huff, “Maybe.”

“We could both pretend like we didn’t know, but we agreed to say what we mean and mean what we say.  That’s what you wanted, hmmm?”  Richard’s voice was gentle and she didn’t feel that he was mocking her.

“Mmm hmm, I guess.”  She conceded.

“It’s alright, you know.  It doesn’t bother.   And you have to admit, maybe not today, that it’s pretty funny.   I mean, who gets caught twice in one day?  It must be some sort of record.”  Richard elbowed her again.

“Yay, give me a frickin’ medal.”  She grumbled.

“There she is! Welcome back.”  He set down the water jug he was carrying and took hers from her.  “Now, is there any chance of a cup of chocolate tonight?”

Hannah perked up, “Yeah, can you get down the bear bag?  We’ll use the Whisperlite stove instead of a fire.”

“Oh good.  I was afraid you might have other plans.”

Hannah punched him on the arm, “Don’t flatter yourself, Big Fella.”

“Uh huh.  Well, if you need any sound effects tonight, just let me know.  I’m known for my audio work.”  He sniggered.

“Lord, give me strength.  Save me from idiot men who think they’re a gift from the gods.”   She laughed and lit the stove.

Two cups of hot chocolate later, they were happy and relaxed, sitting side by side on the rocks and watching the stars.

“This is pretty amazing.”  Richard said with a little awe. 

Hannah nodded, “Mmm hmm.  It really is.  It’s the reward for putting up with black flies and leeches and having to do bear bags.”

“I’m so glad we stayed.   I can’t imagine not seeing this, not being here for this.”  His hand circled the sky. “So the darkness shall be the light and the stillness the dancing.”

“Mmmm.  I said to my soul, be still … do I dare disturb the universe?”

“This is the hour for which we waited—  
This is the ultimate hour  
When life is justified.  
The seas of experience  
That were so broad and deep,  
So immediate and steep,  
Are suddenly still.”   Richard recited the poem low and steady with Hannah gaping at him. 

She cleared her throat and tried to speak but her voice broke, “So you, uhhh, you know your TS Eliot?” 

“As do you,”  Richard picked at the threads on the cuff of his shirt and avoided her face. "I have a sort of a love-hate relationship with him.

“Oh?  Why’s that?”

“I love the poetry, all but one really.  I even read a couple for the BBC, [Preludes](http://www.richardarmitageonline.com/words-and-music/preludes.mp3) and  [Silence](http://www.richardarmitageonline.com/words-and-music/silence.mp3)”

“I take it that’s the love part.  What’s the hate?”

He mumbled into his hand, “I was in Cats.”

“Pardon me, I didn’t catch that.”

He sighed, “I was in Cats.”

Hannah snorted and tried to hide her snickering behind her hand. “Oh.”

“Okay, just say it.  Have at it.”  Richard grumbled. “I’ve heard it all.”

“It’s nothing.  I just can’t imagine it, that’s all.”

“Oh, and why not Miss Imagines Me Doing All Sorts of Things?”

She gasped and slugged him across the arm.   “Because you’re a huge brute and I can’t imagine you all lithe and stealthy like a dancing Cat, that’s why!”

“Oh, so you like huge brutish men, eh?”

“Nice try Bozo.  No deflecting – that’s my trick.   So why are you so bent about Cats?”

“Well … because it’s Cats.”  He shook his head and had a little shiver.  “Isn’t that enough?”

“If I remember correctly it’s one of the biggest selling, longest playing musicals in the world.  Is that something to be ashamed of?  Hmmm?”  She chided.

“Most people don’t see it that way.  I’ve been the brunt of the joke for years over it.”

“Most people are idiots.” 

He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them, eyebrows slightly knit together. “Maybe so.”  He stole a look at her and was halfway pleased by her odd defense of him. 

They chatted about musical theatre and his wide variety of experiences in said industry.  He had dozens of stories and was very good at telling them.

“Well Chumbly Wumbly, I’ve got numb bum.  I’m gonna brush my teeth and hit the hay.”   She used his shoulder to pull herself up.   “G’night, Richard.”

“Good night Hannah.”  He smiled up at her and patted her hand still resting on his shoulder.

They were in their respective tents and Richard called out, “Hannah?”

“Yeah?”

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”  Richard smiled as he rolled over to go sleep with more love than hate for TS Eliot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful, fun messages. It is a joy and makes every single time I sit there banging my head, trying to hear their voice worthwhile. You give me life!
> 
> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-16


	17. Bruce, Lucy & Imogene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A near catastrophe, a day trip, no Bay of Pigs, and what are we going to do about the tent?
> 
> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-17

Dawn had begun brushing streaks of pink and gold across the sky when all hell broke loose. 

The wilderness was not a quiet place with the goings on of birds, animals and an ever present breeze churning the water and swaying the trees, but those were natural sounds which easily became a lulling soundtrack.  When something interrupted their camp’s predictable sounds, alarm bells went off, even in sleep.

Something was moving nearby; something big.  Breaking sticks and snapping branches roused Hannah.   She rubbed her eyes and peeked out through the tent’s window unable to see anything but distinctly able to hear something large moving through the trees.   She crawled to the window on the other side of the tent and smiled – it was a moose.  She immediately dubbed him Bruce, scooped up her camera, and quietly slipped out of the tent.  

“Oh Richard, wake up.  You’re gonna wanna see this.”  She whispered into the dewy morning air and took several photographs.

Bruce lumbered down the hill from the privy toward their camp.    Hannah’s eyes sparkled as she took picture after picture of the magnificent animal.  She had crouched down to stay out of sight and get a new angle when she fell over, swearing softly.   It was enough for Bruce to decide she wasn’t a threat but he didn’t exactly want to become friends or stay for coffee.   He marched with the purpose of getting from one side of their camp to the other and he didn’t give a care as to where he stepped.   Richard’s tent was in Bruce’s path and while Bruce consented to a small detour, his massive hooves crushed the edges of it.

Richard’s cry startled Bruce who tried to bolt but got caught in the fly ropes and pegs.   He pulled Richard’s tent along for a few feet before freeing himself and charging off, long out of site by the time Richard could extricate himself from the mangled tent.

“What the fuck was that?”  Richard was ghastly pale and visibly shaken.  He patted down his body looking for blood or injuries.

“Bruce.  He’s gone, he won’t come back this way, your scream will have scared him off for good.”  Hannah fiddled with her camera while she spoke.

“Bruce?  What the hell is a bruce?”  His back stiffened and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.  He’d just been dragged and nearly killed by a beast and she didn’t have the wherewithal to see if he was unharmed.

“Bruce the Moose.  He was just passing through.  You’ll want to check your tent for damage.”  She paid particularly close attention to the settings button on her camera, marveling at it as if it was the first time she’d ever seen such a contraption.   _Camera, camera, camera.  Don't laugh.  Do NOT laugh at him._

“Hannah!  I was almost trampled to death by a moose and you’re just sitting there playing with your stupid camera.”  His colour had gone from frightened pale grey to a miffed deep pink.

“You … ah … um … you might want to get dressed Richard.”  She made a point of looking up at him and down to his rather revealing black boxer briefs.  Apparently fear didn’t completely eradicate morning wood.

“Wot?” He looked at her as if she were mad and then he looked down, mortified. “OH.   Sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I’ll just go –“ He stopped and cocked his head and he started laughing,  “either you’ve already imagined worse or this is simply fuel for the fire. You’re blushing – how quaint.”

Hannah blushed deeper, picked up a slew of pinecones and, with a feeble laugh, pelted him with them.  “Get out of here you gargantuan jerk.” 

“I would have thought you’d have been pleased to verify your initial estimation, you know, big feet ...”   He linked his fingers together behind his head and swiveled his hips with a thrust in her direction and laughed. When she groaned and slapped her forehead in exasperation he wiggled his arse at her and laughed harder.

“Now I know why you Brits call your man parts twig and berries.  Looks about right.”  She gave him her best _oh-yeah-I-just-went-there_ face.

“Ohh-ho-ho-ho, game on!”  He chuckled as he climbed back into this mangled tent.   _The rest of this trip is going to be fun._   The banter was back and he had lots with which to wind her up.

He was sobered when he surveyed the damage to the tent. Once he smoothed it out he saw a gaping hole in the bottom of one wall exactly where his pillow had been.  He’d just barely escaped a moose stepping on his head and being trampled by it as it tried to escape their camp.   A shiver went up his spine and he stood paralyzed with the knowledge of how close to horrid injury he’d been.  He covered his mouth and rubbed his cheek, muffling his anxious rumblings.

He pulled on his black Hydrofoil trousers and slate grey Henley, preoccupied with the damage to the tent and the damage which he narrowly avoided.  As he sat to slip on his Tevas he hoped Hannah might have solutions in her bag of tricks, but it looked bad.  There were two other holes in the thin nylon sides; the fly poles were busted and one of the tent poles was bent at an odd angle.  Richard pulled all of his bedding and personal effects out of the tent in preparation for repairs, shaking his head and saying a prayer of thanks for his escape from the crushing hooves of Bruce the Moose.

“Hey. There’s quite a bit of damage but I’m sure you’ll be able to fix it.  Is that coffee?” He asked as she held out an empty cup to him.

“I’ll go take a look in a few minutes once the coffee’s ready.  I _need_ coffee.  So, you’ve met your first moose.  Did you get his number? You two gonna stay in touch?” It was so much easier to smirk at someone when the danger was completely over.

“Yah, we’re doing Christmas at his.  You know he almost crushed my skull, right?” 

“Yes, but he didn’t.  You can celebrate actual life or dwell on near death.   Personally, the look on your face standing there in your gotchies has me voting on the side of celebrating life.  That was worth the price of the moose stomping all on its own.  I’ve got some great pictures if you’d like to see them.”  Hannah offered with a huge smile.

“Nice.  I won’t be coming to you for sympathy anytime soon.  But then I guess we already established you’re sort of not much for it anyway.”  He grumbled.

“Heeheehee. As long as we understand each other:  don’t come crying to me with sissy-baby tears.  I need to see evidence of blood or broken souls.  Here, hand over your cup, coffee’s ready.”  She filled his cup and handed it back to him before filling her own.  “Mmmm coffee mmmm.  Let’s drink on the rocks.  Bring your kneeling pad to sit on.”

Richard cleared the trees to gasp at the beautiful scene before him:the lake was covered in a beautiful ghostly mist.  “It’s astonishing, really breathtaking."  He sat quietly, soaking up the scene before him. "It’s interesting that just when I think there can’t be anything left to surprise me about this place, you show me something new.   I’ve read so much of Tom, the park and the psychological benefits of time with nature but no book or photo can equal this.”

“Mmmm.  It doesn’t wear off, you know.  I’ve seen hundreds of morning fogs and it always moves me the same way.”  She whispered and gazed at the lake, content to watch the rising sun warm the air and burn off the ethereal shroud.   It struck her that it was the second time in so many days the word ethereal had popped into her mind.  

She wasn’t typically uber-romantic but she certainly had romantic notions about the vista before her - inspired, comforted, enriched, soothed by the wild beauty.  Richard inspired her to take her current view from an unexamined pleasure to poetic interpretation.  He also unwittingly inspired her imagination which was a tad obsessed with envisioning and escaping into orgasmic bliss with him, or at least his characters.  There was romantic and then there was _Guy of Gisborne/ Harry/Richard romantic_.  She stilled the little tremour which accompanied thinking along _those_ lines.

Hannah watched Richard’s study of the mist-shrouded lake.   He reminded her of the way he looked when he was sleeping. He was relaxed and natural but with something he didn’t have in sleep – a contentedness.   In the last five days she’d seen him tightly coiled with anger, frustration, and even fear.  She had seen him full out belly laughing as well as trying to contain giggles.  She’d seen a great deal in his body language but she hadn’t seen this kind of peace.

“You’re staring.”  His gaze didn’t leave the lake.

Hannah smiled with a little shrug, “You look happy.”

He turned to look at her, slightly surprised, “I know I’m sort of menacing looking but does happiness hang so oddly on me that you can’t help stare?”

“No, it’s not that.  It’s … I don’t know how to explain it … it’s just that watching you look so free and blissful feels like I can absorb it through eye osmosis or something.   That was really lame.”  She shook her head in frustration. “And, just for the record, you do not look menacing.  You try to sometimes but … no, you’re not menacing.”

“Oh really?  I’m not menacing?  I’ll have you know I’ve made a sort of comfortable living looking menacing.”  He was highly amused at the thought of it. “How’s this?”  He pulled his face in, brows pushed together, eye lids and chin lowered and set his lips in a cruel sneer.

“See this is what I mean.  If I took a photo of you right now it would be menacing-ish.  But I’m sitting here beside you and there’s not a threatening vibe to be found within a hundred feet.  You’ve done something weird with your face but the rest of you is … I don’t know … nice guy?”  She scrunched her eyes, trying to find the right word.  “Hey, are you fishing for compliments?”

“Compliments?  Seriously?  You’ve just told me my money-maker’s broken!  And in its place I’m … gasp … nice?  You couldn’t possibly say anything worse.”  He dipped his chin and looked up through his lashes with big, limpid eyes.  She would have sworn she saw his chin quiver.

 “Aw, I’m sorry.  But you know, you kinda look like a little lost puppy right now.  How could that possibly be menacing?  And anyway, go back to gazing poignantly at the lake.  The fog will be gone soon.”  She waved her hands at him and turned her own attention to the water.

Richard watched Hannah as she melted into the peace of the morning.  She became part of the park, at one with the water and the rocks and the trees and sky.  It was inspiring and it was an insight into Tom which he hadn't considered.  There was a paradoxical energy radiating from Hannah in her perfect stillness.  She was serene but not subdued; vibrant but not gregarious.   She had unknowingly given him a key to unlocking a hidden part of Tom and enchanted him in the process.

“You’re staring.”  She said, her gaze not leaving the lake.

He smiled broadly, “You look happy.”

“I am”.  She nodded.  “How could I not be, sitting here?”  She swept her hand around in a broad circle, encompassing everything around her.

“You fit so perfectly here in this place.  Why weren’t you always here?  I can’t believe it’s only been a couple of years.”  He instantly regretted asking when her spiritual link with the park shattered and her body went rigid.

“I worked as a paramedic for a long time, it just took me a while to find my way here I guess.”  Exhaling a deep breath, her whole body drooped but she didn’t break her gaze across the lake.

“How did you find your way here?”  He asked gently, hoping the answer to that question would lead her to better memories than the ones weighing her down at that moment.

“I should have been here years earlier but I’m a slow learner I suppose.”  She sighed and was quiet for several minutes.   “Before I was a paramedic I was a nanny and one of my families had a cottage up here.  We’d come up each summer and even though I was working, I felt, I don’t know, at home here I guess.  That’s something I sure never felt in New York.” 

“You lived in New York?  I live in New York!” He flinched at the way her head whipped around to pin him with her stare.  The intensity of revulsion roiling in her eyes made him nauseous. “Well, not full time.  It’s really sort of a place to stay when I come to the States.  My home is in London.” He amended.

“I’m not fond of New York.”  She said simply.

He nodded, “Yeah, I gathered that.  Look, I know we have a deal that you have to answer my questions but I’m thinking you really don’t want me to ask about New York.  So, I won’t ask.  But Hannah, if you want to tell me …”

She shook her head sadly, “No, don’t think so.  But … thank you anyway.” 

Richard scooted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in for a one-armed hug.  She was so distant and unwelcoming he considered dropping his arm and perhaps giving her a comforting little pat on the back instead.  Hannah exhaled noisily and sagged into him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

It felt so good to Hannah to be held, to be comforted.   She meant it when she told him he was nice.  _He’s a nice guy and it couldn’t possibly hurt to lean on him for a minute, could it?_

They sat just so, still and quiet, watching the sun crest the tree tops and burn the mist off the lake.  

“Um … Hannah?”  Richard pulled away just enough to look down at her.

“Mmmm?” 

“My arse is cold and sore.  Sorry luv, but I’m going to have to get up.”  His expression wilted for approximately ¾ of a second until Hannah started laughing.

“May I ask what’s so funny about numb bum?”

“You’re gonna ‘get up’.”

“Too obvious.  You’ll have to do better than that.”  He groaned and shook his head.  “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Nice segue!  We’ll fix your tent and paddle up to Otterslide Lake for the day.  How’s that, boss?”   Hannah asked.

Richard gave her a little squeeze on the shoulder and stood up, offering her his hand to help her up too.  “Sounds good.  Except … could we have breakfast first?  I’m sort of famished.”

“Of course.  I’m thinking cream of wheat with fruit & nuts and english muffins with cheese.  Will that fill the void oh Constantly Thinking of Food Man?”

“Should do.”  He nodded and muttered under his breath, “that’s not quite all I think about oh Miss Faps A Lot.”

They ate breakfast and finished off the pot of coffee, much to Richard’s dismay.  He conceded that a second pot probably wasn’t wise since they’d be back out in the canoe.  He sighed as Hannah worked on the tent while he tidied up from breakfast and cleaned out their day pack.

“I dunno if this is gonna work.  I had a couple of patches but the rips are pretty big, I don’t know if the glue will be strong enough.  The poles are so-so fixed with duct tape.  I guess we’ll see how it holds up when we get back from Otterslide.”

They filled the day pack, secured camp and made one last stop at the slammer before setting out on the lake.   The sun cleared the last of the mist leaving a cloudless cerulean sky above calm blue waters.

“So, have you found this trip has helped you at all?”  Hannah asked.

“Absolutely.  I could have delivered the lines and whatnot, but there’s no way I could begin to grasp the internal man without all this.  You know, it’s more than the technical wilderness skills.  I mean, yes, you must know how to hold a paddle and j-stroke if you’re going to be playing a man who spent most available moments on the water.  But everything of actually being here, it’s all of it, really.  You do the portaging, see the wild animals, sleep in tents, eat over a fire, and under the stars – you can’t describe how those things hit you.  You have to feel it and let it flow out of you without words.  It’s humbling, to have a glimpse of this place and know that he had a long term, intimate relationship with it.  Algonquin was his muse and his mistress, do you know what I mean?”  Richard breathed in the sunshine and woods and water, making them a sense memory.

“Mmm hmm.  Yeah, I get it.   None of my friends back home understand why I came here and stayed.  It isn’t something I can explain.  Sure it’s beautiful and unspoiled, but it’s not a carefree, utopian paradise.  There is really serious danger here – well, you saw that with Neve, and that was a minor injury.  It’s not just that it’s primal … oh, hell, I can’t explain it to them.  Why am I trying to explain it to you?”  She tossed her head in frustration. “You’re here – you get it too.”

“I’m beginning to think that I do.”  He nodded thoughtfully. “You know, what happened to Neve … that was horrible.”  He paused for a moment, “It’s sort of made this very real.  It’s not Hood Academy or Dwarven Boot Camp; there are no stunt doubles.  We are hours away from help, assuming we can get to it at all.  It feels like the concerns we have here are purer, more elemental. You have kind of taken a huge risk staying here with only me.”

Hannah snorted, “Pfft, no risk.  I can bring you down faster than you can say Tom Thomson.  You don’t scare me.”

“No no no no no.   That’s not what I mean at all.  And, by the way, I might be a little scared of you now. No, I mean that if anything was to happen to you or that you couldn’t be The Guide, could you – should you – trust me to get you to safety?”  He asked and wondered if he could indeed.

“Nah, it never crossed my mind.   I just want to spend a glamourous week alone with a movie star, that’s all I was thinking about.”  To which Richard snorted.  “Yeah, I mean it’s all part of the bigger safety picture.   Life jackets and bear bags are the obvious things that you learn in Camping 101 but there’s at least a hundred things that go into figuring out what kind of risk you’re facing and if you’re willing to take it.  What if you were out of commission, would I be able to get you to safety?  You’re a pretty big guy for me to have to portage, ya know?”

He chuckled uncomfortably at the thought of her having to lug his unconscious body out of the park by herself.  He was quite certain she would find a way to do it, but how, he couldn’t guess.

“Everything that happened up until the point of deciding to stay fed into the actual decision.  I know the park and the wilderness factor.  I didn’t know the human risk factor – you.   With how bad things were snowballing between us, it could have been a fast NO WAY.  It’s not that I can’t spend a week with someone I don’t like very much, but for a while there I was considering you weren’t tolerable let alone likable.  I thought you didn’t respect me and I’m not willing to be out here with someone who doesn’t have my back and won’t follow orders, so to speak.  I wouldn’t risk _my_ safety with you if you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah, we had a bit of a rough go of it, didn’t we?!  I’m happy we’ve got that sorted.  What changed your mind that I’m marginally tolerable and might be worth risking your life for?”

Hannah shrugged, “I guess it was how you were when you came back on the plane.  You were open and kind again – still a pain in the ass – but, I dunno, you were nice, and you listened like you respected what I had to say.   But who you were before we went Cold War was important too.  The way you reacted to stress was very impressive.  Terrified of the water and yet you paid very close attention to everything Tarr and I did and said.  You didn’t panic, you pushed your comfort zone but not recklessly. You didn’t endanger us that first time I turned around even though I think you peed your pants you were so scared.  You were calm when we faced all of our crises.  And you reminded me of safety measures I ignored.  So, you’re a fairly good bet in the wild, I guess; you’re smart, observant, and brave but not stupid.”

“Gee, thanks for that … I think.”  He splashed her, accidentally on purpose.

“Hey, look at you!  Comfortable enough in a canoe to be silly.  Looks good on ya!  How are you feeling about being on the water? Better I guess?”

“Water?  WATER?  We’re on the water?  Why did you have to remind me? Oh lord help me, I don’t think I can go on!” He swooned.

Hannah flicked her paddle to give him a respectable splash.  “Ha ha, very funny.  Are you sure you really want to start a splash war with me?  I spend most of the spring, summer and fall wet … just sayin’, just in case you were calculating your odds of winning this battle.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, not sure which was more pressing:  the impulse to comment on her being wet, or her dire promise.  He opted to let the former slide.  “Warning received.  As far as being on the water … it’s fine as long as I don’t have to be _in_ it.  When we got here I thought you’d give a couple of lessons and then we’d get straight on with it. I’m glad you didn’t because you took the mystery out of canoes – well, the mechanics of them – and replaced terror with a new respect.  I know how hard it would be for us to tip this thing and that I can trust my PFD and that we can right the thing even if, heaven forbid, it swamped.  And I know to make sure I rescue my paddle instead of my notebooks.  It’s quite interesting to know how canoeing works and it gives some small measure of confidence.  So, yeah, I’m quite liking being on the water.”  He nodded his affirmation.

“So you’re saying you won’t want to take scuba lessons with me?”  She turned her head to give a smirk only to find him with eyes closed, shaking his head.  “No? Okay then, party pooper.”

They continued the paddle to the top of Burnt Island Lake in easy silence.  Not far from shore, Hannah pointed out a momma common loon with chicks and took photos, whispering factoids to Richard.  They let the canoe drift, enjoying the birds and occasionally tossing a smile to each other.  It was very likely that the momma in front of them was the bird who serenaded them the night before with her hauntingly beautiful call. They felt a kinship to her and were reluctant to leave her as she paddled around with her babies on her back.

It was a nearly 800m portage to Little Otterslide Lake which, while it was easier without their camp on their backs, it still left them enormously relieved to get back in the water at the end of their hike.   They paddled most of the way up the small lake and decided to stop for lunch on an island.

“This is nice.  It’s quite different from the other lakes.  It’s sort of … cozy.”  He laughed.

“Mmm hmm.  Canoe and Burnt Island lakes are fairly big and this one is tiny in comparison.  We had lunch on Little Joe a couple of days ago but no one was really in the mindset to do sightseeing.  Ha, and you were too busy having an affair with your chipmunk.”  Hannah teased as she took a bite of her peanut butter and jam wrap.

“Ha, ha, very funny.  So, they’re not the most exotic dangerous animals, but it was kind of interesting to see how he went about poaching all of my food.”

“Ah huh, he saw you coming from a mile away!  Do you want some more peppers before I put them away?”   Hannah held out the Ziploc bag to him and he took a few, absentmindedly munching on them.

“Where’s home?”  He asked.

“Huh?  What?  You are the king of non-sequitur aren’t you?  Where did that come from?”  She picked at the last pepper and tossed it into the lake.

In the most non-threatening tone he could find, he said, “You said the people at home don’t get the whole wilderness thing.  Just wondering where home is.  Every now and then you say something which sounds as though you are from away.”

“Oh.”  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m from Pennsylvania, born and bred.”

“Hmmm.  I’m not very familiar with Pennsylvania – I know Philadelphia and Pittsburgh but that’s about it.”  He watched as she made tidying up seem a very serious business.

She sighed.  “Just outside Philadelphia now, we’d lived in central PA when I was a kid though.”

“So how did you get from Philly to New York.”  He held her eyes when she flinched.  She was getting _that look_ and he wondered if she’d bolt again.  Oh, not physically, he knew she couldn’t go anywhere physically but she could leave mentally or emotionally and he thought that might just be worse.

“I was a paramedic in our town and thought I might enjoy the excitement of the big city.  Philly wasn’t big enough, it was just my backyard.  So I applied for a job in New York.”  She shrugged her shoulders and stared at him, defying him to ask anything else.

“So then, how did a paramedic in New York become a wilderness guide in the Muskoka’s?”

Her eyes flashed and she opened her mouth, shutting it quickly as she remembered her promise.  She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, “There’s no state secret, no crazy stories, no tragedies.  Life happens and people change.  I changed.  It’s totally boring.  Are you ready to get going?”

“Oh good.  Boring’s good.  For a moment there I thought you shot a man in Reno just to watch him die or something.”  He winked at her and smiled as the tension visibly drained away.

“Did you just quote Johnny Cash?”  She looked at him as though he was from outer space.

He chuckled and said, “Maybe,” as he gently laid his hand on her shoulder, “thank you Hannah.  Now, how much further and can we have a walk because it feels like I’ve been on my arse for far too long.”

She didn’t flinch when he touched her and she didn’t shut him out when he pushed a little.  Her expression was assessing, not fearing or hating.  She was wary but, if he looked close enough, trusting him just a little.  

“There aren’t really any decent hiking trails in here, but if you can wait until we’re on our way back to camp, you could do a couple of laps on the portage.”  She suggested.

“No offence, but I sort of wanted to stretch it out a bit and it’s hard to do that with a canoe on your shoulders.” 

She laughed at him, “Sorry, I meant you do three legs of it and I’ll carry the canoe.  That’ll give you a little over 2.25 km.  You shouldn’t run because of roots and divots but you can certainly go faster than if you’re tied to me and a canoe.”

He let a snicker slip at the thought of being tied to her.  He could go faster than tied to her.  His head buzzed as he realized how many interpretations that small phrase might have and they were ones which might not be as repellent as much as he’d have thought.  During the short portage to Otterslide Lake Richard considered slowing down a little, forming an attachment, and found that the idea of being ‘tied’ to Hannah sounded suspiciously like a fine thing; like something he might want to explore.

It was beyond all ridiculousness to consider such a doomed-to-fail premise.  He’d known her for what?  Five days?  And he was thinking about what? Dating her?  Not just dating but dating with intent.   The whole idea was idiotic and put him in a mood.

“Well, now you choose.  We can go through a marshy area to Happy Isle Lake or up Otterslide Creek to some beaver dams and falls.”  Hannah thought he’d enjoy either, but hoped he picked the creek.

Richard was taciturn, “You know best.”

“Huh?”  Hannah turned around to look at him, her face scrunched up as if suddenly she’d smelled something bad.

“You pick.  It doesn’t matter to me.”  He finally looked at her and regretted his tone.  She’d gone pale and her lips were clamped together in a grim white line.

“Fine.  Swamp it is.”  She be damned if she take him to her cliffs if he was going to be like that.  _Stupid moody ass, what the hell crawled up his butt?_   If anyone had a reason to be pissy, it was Hannah for being asked about her past.  She hated talking about herself and he knew it but he asked anyway.  She was in the midst of going over everything she had said and done looking for a clue as to what set him off when she considered their pact to speak openly and honestly.   With a sign she turned around to look at him and braced her paddle across the gunwales.

“What’s wrong Richard?  Did I do something to bug you?”  She asked softly, cringing at the thought of what she might have done.

He scowled at her for a long moment before his eyes and mouth softened.  “I’m sorry, it’s not you.  I was just thinking about … well … I was on a track which was guaranteed to derail.  Sorry Hannah, I shouldn’t have been rude to you.  Am I forgiven?”

Hannah sniggered, “Hey look at us all acting like growed-ups and everything. We didn’t even do the Cold War for a couple of hours.  No passive aggressiveness allowed in our park.  Aren’t you proud of us?”

“Yeah, we’re clearly the epitome of growed-up sophistication.  You’re a bit of a nutter, aren’t you?”  He chuckled.

“Nawh.   Actually, if truth be told, I’m kinda the poster-girl for running away from difficult conversations.  This sort of stuff kinda makes me ill which is pretty funny because that means you make me ill and it’s not just an insult, it’s literal fact.”

He groaned, “Oh aren’t you lovely?!  Kind with one word, cutting with the next.  I see your game now:  soften him up and then go for the kill.  Very strategic of you!  Brava!”

“Thank you, thank you.  Thank you very much.  We’re here all week folks.”  She bowed as dramatically as one could in a canoe. “But seriously, aren’t you even a little pleased with us?   Three days ago we’d be facing The Bay of Pigs or something.  Now look at us, all open and honest and everything.  I think I’m getting a little choked up, I’m so proud!”

“Yes, yes, yes.  Of course. Now stop jibber-jabbering and paddle or am I to do all the work on my own?”  He splashed her just enough to make her wonder if it was on purpose or not.

“Whatever.  Okay, see that cut over there?  That’s where we’re headed.”  She pointed to what looked like a wide creek flowing between the water grasses.   It’s really a pretty paddle.

They paddled up the creek, taking several short portages; some wet, some through paths in the woods.  It was after the second portage they saw something neither had expected and Hannah wasn’t sure she wanted to see:  a cow moose and her calf.

“Oh look, it’s Bruce’s wife Lucy and their daughter Imogene.”  Richard pointed excitedly.

Hannah snorted and whispered.  “Bruce the Moose, Lucy the Moose and Imogene?  You ran out of names that rhyme with moose or something?”

“Aww, come on.  She looks like an Imogene, don’t you think?  She’s got that ‘somewhat traditional with a streak of the frisky behind an innocent face’ sort of a look.  That’s an Imogene.”  He countered.

“Good thing you and I don’t have kids because it would have been World War III at naming time.”  She sniggered and he nodded in agreement.  “It’s cool to see Momma and her Beebee but there’s nothing more dangerous that a cow with a calf, not even a rutting bull.   So we best make smooth, unthreatening strokes to get the hell outa here.”

“Yez Boz.”  He was quite proud of his j-stroke and maneuvered them smoothly away from the moose. 

The sounds in the creek were much louder than on their campsite.  Different birds and animals who lived in the shallows going about their daily business created a more cacophonous soundtrack than the one they enjoyed over breakfast. 

They came up to a beaver dam and watched for signs of the inhabitants without luck.   The beavers had been quite successful in blocking their path and keeping them from the marsh.  

After a drink and a snack, they turned for home and were both relieved _and_ disappointed when they didn’t see Lucy and Imogene.  Hannah was grateful she’d had the chance to snap several photos when the moose were there earlier and both she and Richard were excited to see them back at camp.

The return trip was relaxed and seemed to be shorter than the trip in.   Richard noted the natural landmarks and felt nostalgic, wondering if he’d ever see them again.   The thought that he wouldn’t left him solemn and quiet.

As discussed, when they arrived at the 790m portage from Little Otterslide to Burnt Island, Hannah carried the canoe while Richard power walked the path up, back, up, and back to find her in order to help with the final hundred or so metres. 

“Feel good to stretch your legs?”  She asked, thinking she wouldn’t mind going for a walk too.   She deeply appreciated the few minutes she was alone, but she wanted to have uninterrupted time to herself.  Maybe she could go to the meadow when they got back to camp, something which she eagerly anticipated.

“Yeah it did do.  In fact, it was so good I almost don’t feel guilty for sticking you with the canoe on your own.”  His face scrunched in almost-but-not-quite shame.

“Oh for goodness sake, don’t even think about it.  I can do that portage with full gear and my eyes closed.  I solo trip you know.”  She huffed.

“Mmmm.  Yes I know you do.  I’ve caught you … twice.”  She could hear the smarmy grin in his voice.

“Touché. Yeah, I walked right into that one.  Good job.  Point:  team Armitage.”  She just shook her head and racked her brain for a witty comeback but couldn’t think of a damn thing.   She’d have to owe him one … or twenty.

They arrived at camp pleasantly tired and thirsty.   After taking down the bear bag, they sat on the rocks drinking lemon flavoured water and munching on pilot crackers.  They watched a canoe of three paddle by and waved, enjoying the fleeting glimpse of other humans but glad they were moving on quickly.  They sat only a short while before Hannah made to get up.  

“If I start supper can you tend it?”  She asked.

“Sure.  Why?”  He looked at her quizzically.

“I’m going to go for a hike and maybe find some berries or something to add to our dinner.  I’ll be gone about an hour or so, is that okay?  I’ve got my whistle and you’ve got yours – any problems and we’ll each be able to hear the other blow.  Cool?”  Richard nodded as she refilled her water bottle, tightened up her boots and dug through the food pack. 

Hannah pulled out the supplies for Chicken and Peas with Wild Rice and showed Richard what needed to be done.  Once they got the rice soaking, they went to take a look at Richard’s tent.  After a brief examination Hannah stood with her arms crossed over her chest and tapped her foot.

“It’s not good.  The patch is peeling around the sides of the big hole and the poles have a 50-50 chance of holding up under pressure.  I can jerry-rig the poles with rope but I can’t do much about the holes.   Let me think about it while I’m off in the meadow.  Don’t worry, we’ll figure out something so that you’re not at the mercy of spiders and snakes.”  She laughed at the look of abject horror on his face.  Hannah suspected snakes were right up there with water on Richard’s fear list.

She slung a light daypack over her shoulder and waved, “See you in an hour or so.   Be good, don’t have any more affairs with rodents.”   He huffed and waved her on.

An hour and a half later a much rejuvenated Hannah wandered back into camp.  Richard’s questions about her past and dealing with his snit fit had used up all of her ‘people person’ resources.  The solitude was just what the doctor ordered and she felt refreshed; wary, but refreshed.  She was certain that Richard would continue to ask questions and she was resolved to not tell him to fuck off or maroon him in the park.

“Hey.  How’s supper coming?  I’m starved. I didn’t find anything to add to the pot, sorry.”

“Uh huh.  Didn’t find or didn’t look?  You have the distinct appearance of someone who just woke up!”  He gave her a knowing, lopsided grin.

“Maybe.  I’ll admit nothing.”  She had the decency to look sheepish.

“Here, I figured you’d want one of these when you got back.”  He handed her a cup of coffee and she couldn’t have been happier if he’d handed her ambrosia from Mt. Olympus.

“Thank you.  I believe I owe you my first born for this.”  She sighed happily as she took a sip. “But I get to name it first!   Thanks for the coffee Rich, it’s delish.  Ha - that kinda rhymes.”

“You’re welcome.”  He rolled his eyes and checked the chicken and peas mixture to make sure the sauce was thickened as the recipe described.  With a light stir he added it to the rice and took the pot off the grill.  “Good walk, nap, whatever?”   He tried not to smirk but it didn’t work.

“Ha ha.  Funny guy!  Yeah, good walk and good nap.  I think I have a solution to our tent problems.”

“Oh thank goodness.  I must say, spiders and snakes sounded … unappealing.”  He was visibly relieved.

“Mmm hmm, but I need you to promise me something first.” 

“Sure, whatever you need.”                                                                      
  
“I need you to wear pajamas, or equivalent, to sleep.”

“Okay …” He drawled, “Why?”

“Because we’re going to share my tent.”  She said matter-of-factly.

He broke out in a dastardly evil grin, “But won’t it cramp your style with me right there?” 

Hannah pelted him with every available pine cone on the camp site while he laughed at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-17


	18. Back in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 18 is ready: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-18/

“Fat and happy.”  Hannah sighed.

Richard’s forehead crinkled, “Huh?”

“That’s how I feel.  Great dinner Rich, in fact I’d go so far as to say ‘you’re hired’.  You can cook for me any day!” 

He chuckled, “Well don’t get too comfortable there, Princess.  He who cooks doesn’t do the washing up.  You’re on dish duty!”

Hannah patted the ground and came up empty handed, “Where’s a pinecone when you need one? Hmmm? That’s what I want to know!”

“While you were in the meadow chasing butterflies or riding unicorns, or whatever it is you do up there, I gathered up all the pinecones and hid them.  I’m tired of getting pelted.”  He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

Hannah scowled at him, “Fat lot of good that’ll do you!  If I can’t find pinecones, I’ll just have to use rocks.  It’s not like you don’t deserve them!” 

“Maybe.  But you’re still on dish duty so don’t try changing the subject.”  He tossed the pot scrubbie over to her and sat back against the log with his fingers laced behind his head.   He sighed with a beatific smile on his face.

“Ummm.  Not to put too fine point on it, but I’ve done dishes every meal.   Why do you think you’re so special?” She gave him a look of ‘Ha got you there Mr. Smartypants’ .

He let out a martyr’s groan, “Oh alright!  If you insist. What’s in it for me?  Hmmm?”

“You may get in the canoe as it departs for home.  How’s that for incentive? Hmmm?”  She imitated his tone.

His eyes bugged out in exaggerated fear, “Oooooh, you pretend to play dirty but I know you’d never do such a thing.  You’re evil, but not that evil!”

“Oh shut up.   Do you know why they don’t let donkeys go to university?”  She laughed at him,  “Because nobody likes a smart-ass!”

They cleaned up the camp together, trading barbs and making empty threats.  When they were almost done, Hannah pulled a small ziplock bag out of the food pack and told Richard to go sit on the rocks.  Several minutes later she joined him and held out her hand with a steaming cup.

What’s this?” He asked as he took a sip. “Oh my goodness, this hot chocolate is brilliant!  How’d you do that?” 

“Shhh. Don’t tell anyone!  I broke the rules and brought a tiny flask of Amaretto in with us.  It is yummy, isn’t it!?   She smiled blissfully.  “I love coming out here and watching the sun slowly go down.”  Richard snorted and she slugged him across the arm.  “You have such a filthy mind, you dirty old man!”                                                                                           

“Hey, it’s not me saying things like ‘slowly go down’, that’s all you Hannah-Baby!” He sniggered and bumped shoulders with her.

“The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys.” She whispered under her breath and rolled her eyes.  “Hey, when we’re done, do you wanna get on the lake to watch the stars come out?  We can tie off like I did the other night.  The water jugs need to be filled anyway …” She asked.

“Yeah, sure.  That sounds lovely.  Sort of like floating on a giant pool of black ooze which is stealthily waiting for you to make a mistake so it can drag you down into its depths and suffocate you slowly and painfully. ’When you gaze long into an abyss the abyss gazes into you.’  Nietzsche might not have meant a lake at night, but it’s an apt description, don’t you think?” Richard shivered at the thought.

Hannah shrugged, “I guessed it would be outside your comfort zone but it’s so beautiful, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“What if the cord breaks or comes loose?  We’ll be stuck out there all night!”  He asked.

Hannah smiled at the pronoun and tense of his question, “We won’t go out so far that we can’t see the lantern I’ll hang on the tree.”

“Fine. I’ll go.”  He scuffed his sandal against the rock and scowled.

She did her best to resist laughing at him. “I don’t want any petulant school boys in my canoe.  So let’s turn that frown upside down, shall we?”  She teased.

He gave her a 1,000 megawatt smile, perfected on the red carpets of every premiere he’d been required to walk.   “Oh, Miss Hannah, I’d be honoured to go out onto the blackest, wateriest abyss I’ve ever seen.  Please take me with you, please, please, pretty please.”  And he gave her The Puppy Dog Eyes.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, “You are insufferable!  Now drink your hot chocolate and be quiet.”

They listened as the forest calmed for the night and the sun sank, casting violet, amber and peach streaks across the horizon.   They rinsed out their cups and double checked the camp, readying for departure.   Hannah tied the knots in the cords in front of Richard and had him reef on them to see if they’d give way. 

Richard was slightly mollified by his inability to undo the knots but grumbled, “Bruce the Moose or Benny Bear will probably be by to rip the cord off the tree anyway so good knots don’t much matter.”

“Tsk. Get in the boat you gargantuan child!”

“Nice!  There’s that astounding level of empathy you don’t have.”

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you?  Blood, protruding bones or a fractured soul.  Otherwise, suck it up Buttercup!”

“Yeah, you wish.”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him, “Point for Team Armitage. That was totally unexpected … and actually pretty good.  Now get in the canoe Nelly or I’ll be forced to humble you with a witty retort.”  

He chuckled, “It’s interesting how you resort to gruff orders whenever you **_don’t_** have a witty retort.  Which, if memory serves, is most of the time.”

“It’s interesting how the guy who’s at my mercy likes to taunt and piss me off when he’s going to be at his most vulnerable!”  Hannah countered.

Richard nodded, “Right. Point well made.  This is me shutting it.”

With the canoe securely tethered to a tree, they paddled out as far as they could and filled the water bags.  Tasks completed, they turned the canoe to face the sunset and made themselves comfortable.

As the sun descended,  the sky’s golden streaks melted leaving Richard and Hannah cloaked in velvety aubergine.   Ducks, geese and mergansers were all bedded down for the night, leaving only the forlorn loons to call across the lakes for their long lost loves.  They watched as the stars slowly emerged, casting a diamond luster on the night sky.

Hannah pointed out the constellations and Richard told her fantastical tales about their namesakes, most of which were creatively improvised because he couldn’t remember his mythology.   Hannah was enraptured by his voice and the way he weaved words into stories of tragedy, humour, comeuppance, and love.   She knew many of the myths but they paled in comparison to the yarns he spun for her.

Sitting in the bottom of the canoe with their backs against their respective seats, they shared solemnity and laughter and silence as though they’d being doing so for years.

“Mmmm, I almost forgot.  I have a little surprise.”  She warned, “Gonna turn now.” 

Richard tensed but did not grab the gunwales in panic.

Hannah pulled the throw bag into her lap and opened it up. “Thought you might like a little smattering of something.”  She pulled a small wineskin out of the bag and handed it to him.

He took it from her and looked questioningly.

“Port.  Taylor Fladgate 40 to be precise.  It’s criminal to put it in a wineskin but it’s the only way to bring it into the park.”  Hannah smiled and patiently waited her turn for a taste of the tawny nectar.

“Umm.  Exactly how many wineskins do you have?  And why haven’t I found them?”

“Errr.   Well.   We’re not supposed to bring alcohol into the park and I thought you and Neve might be ok with a little taste here and there but didn’t want to assume so they’re kinda hidden.”  Her grin was two parts silly and one part naughty.

“Little Miss Rebel!   Who knew?   And here I thought you were this terribly conservative, by the book sort of a woman but you’re a closet anarchist!”   He teased.

“Oh yeah!   That’s me!  That’s the way I roll – all revolutionary and mutineer-ish.”  She chuckled.  “There’ll be no getting tipsy, let alone drunk, on my watch though.  I’ve got this annoying self-preservation thing happening.  It’s so inconvenient.”  She gave an exaggerated mournful sigh.  “Now toss it over or I’ll toss you.”

Richard very nearly spit the port all over her.

“What?  What did I say? Richarrrrrrrd!!!”

“Oh, nothing.  It’s nothing.”  He snickered and took another pull on the wineskin before passing it to her.  “Really.  Nothing at all.” 

“C’mon.  You can’t just leave it like that!”  She warned.

“That’s what he said.”  He snorted in the face of what was most likely her patented icy stare.  “Oh, alright then. Toss, wank, you know, same thing.”

“Oh good heavens, it’s bad enough we do this silliness in English, now you’re doing it in British too?”  She shook her head.

“Ummm … no, you didn’t just ...” In the starlight he couldn’t see her features clearly enough to tell if she was serious or taking the piss.  

“Oh for Pete’s sake, you know what I mean.”  She giggled.  “So, changing the subject, tell me about yourself.”

“Would you like to be a little more specific?  I’ve got 44 years to talk about.”  He teased.

“Ahhh, I’ll leave it up to you.”

“Well … my favourite colour is blue, I like all sorts of music, I sing in the shower, every day I wake up thinking I can no longer stand chocolate ice cream but then will have an insatiable craving for it, I am a bit of a hermit, I love wine … stop me when you’ve had enough … I love playing with Lego now almost as much as when I was a kid –“

“Okay okay.  I wasn’t looking for the stats on the back of your trading card!   Tell me about you, the _real_ you.”  She pushed gently.

“You know, that’s really interesting.  You get asked questions all the time but rarely do interviewers ask about the real you and when they do, you can’t answer them because it just leads to all sorts of problems –“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Stop prevaricating.  Apparently you don’t like to talk about yourself any more than I do.  So, let’s make a deal.  We’ll take turns asking each other questions, but I get the last one.  Deal?”  She held out her hand to shake.

“Deal.”  He shook her hand briskly. “Since you’ve already asked, it’s my turn.  Was coming to Algonquin running towards or away from something?”

“WHOAH.  Talk about jumping into the deep end of the pool!  Haven’t you ever heard of learning to walk before you can run?  Are there any other metaphors I’m missing?”

“That’s two questions and it’s not your turn!” He chided, and then asked softly, “You know that what’s said in the canoe, stays in the canoe, yeah?”

Hannah sighed and was quiet for a few moments.  “Both.  My life had become something I hated and I wanted out.   When I thought about places I was happiest, this was in the top three so I thought Algonquin was a good place to start.  Okay, my turn.  Since you’re this big time international star, what are you doing making a little Canadian movie?”

“First, thank you for talking about something difficult.  Second.  I’ve done quite well in the UK for many years but seem to have skipped the international scene until the last couple of years.  Now I get to audition for some of the big roles but I’m up against actors who have huge resumes and massive international recognition.   I’m in sort of an odd spot: too old for the Hollywood break out star, too young for the leading man whose name alone is legend.”  He shrugged as if it was natural but she could feel a twinge of something in his voice. “Now, back to New York.  What changed in your life to make you want to leave it so badly?”

“Ugh.  Can’t you ask me about my favourite childhood pet or something?”  She let out a huff, and grumbled, “I went there as a paramedic, which I loved.  I got turned into a photographer, which I didn’t love.   There was a messy breakup.  You know, the same old story: girl meets boy; girl likes boy; boy turns the girl into pretzels; girl freaks out and runs away.”   She was glad that he couldn’t see her in the darkness.  “If you could do anything you want in the next few months, what would it be?”

“Hmm.  More on New York later.” He desperately wanted to see her face to get a better sense of what she was thinking and how she was feeling.   He wanted to push her boundaries but not break them. “What would I do?   I think what I _am_ doing.  I liked Tom’s story well enough but now, being here, I feel quite passionate about it.  This place takes you out of yourself and makes you want to create, makes you want to feel and share those feelings.”

“Yes, it does.”  She whispered.

“So, how does one go from paramedic to reluctant photographer?”

Hannah took a deep breath, “One day we got a call for a cyclist-mva … oh, car versus bicycle … and found this fellow sitting on the sidewalk with a broken arm and pretty woozy.  We loaded him into the bus … err, ambulance … and were on our way to Midtown General but got stuck in gridlock.   It took an hour and a half to go what would normally only have taken 10 minutes.  When a potential head injury is involved you can’t administer pain killers so we talked to distract him.   Even with the condition he was in, we had a great conversation.   He was intelligent, funny and super good looking – things I’ve since sworn off for reasons that are now obvious – and I really liked him.   When he asked for my number, I gave it to him.   Blah blah blah, life was happy, happy, joy, joy.   Right from the beginning he said my photographs were good and that I should pursue a career in that direction which was something I had no interest in.  Taking pictures was for pleasure not money.   He submitted a couple of my pics to New Yorker Magazine for a photography contest, without my knowledge, and I won.   Worst win of my life!!!   The pics were posted in their magazine, put into a ‘best of’ show in a local art gallery and I won $10,000.   The money was nice but the rest just brought too much attention.”

Hannah paused and took another sip of port, gazing up at the stars before continuing.  “I started getting commissions and eventually it really interfered with work.   I was a minor cause celebre, I guess. Ridley liked the showings and invitations and write ups.  He had been pushing me to leave health care anyway so this was all fitting into his vision of my 'new and improved' life.  Against my better judgment I quit my job.  I like people and everything but I can’t stand always being with them.  I need time alone to recharge and I wasn’t getting it with the new, glamourous life.  There were parties and events and interviews all the time and it felt like I was falling apart.   I hated it.  Things started going south with Ridley and he was pissed, he loved climbing his way up to the A list.  He felt like he was the reason I was so successful and I was being ungrateful; that if I’d only stop being so stubborn I’d see things logically and understand what a wonderful life filled with awesome opportunities that was there for the taking.  For quite a while I thought maybe he was right and so, on top of feeling like I was disintegrating, had no common sense, I also felt guilty.   I stayed far longer than I should have mostly because I wanted to fix things between us, I wanted it to be like it was in the beginning.  But the more I tried, the worse it got until we were shouting at each other all the time and then it was just him shouting because I couldn’t even manage that.   One day I was sorting through some old pictures and found one from the last summer I’d been here and I knew I had to leave him and get out of New York.”  She sighed heavily, trying to cast off the pall of the memory.

Richard leaned over and took her hands in his, his thumbs gently stroking her fingers.  Softly, he said, “I’m sorry Hannah.”   His hands and his voice were warm but there was an icy charge about him.

“Oh well.  It’s all water under the bridge.  Everyone has their tale of woe.   Mine’s not the worst, that’s for sure.   You know, first world problems and stuff.” She shrugged, trying to minimize it and distance herself from the memory of the feelings.

“No. You should not’ve been treated like that.  You shouldn’t have been manipulated and … and … it’s abuse, I think.  The way he guilted and tried to control you, that’s a sort of abuse.” The icy charge had made its way into his voice, his anger at Ridley plainly evident.

“Oh good lord, I’m no victim!  Don’t you dare paint me like some little damsel in distress that needs to be cosseted or something!  I’m fine!  I just needed breathing room, that’s all.  That’s why I came here.  I have always liked having personal space, this just meets a lifetime need, that’s all!”

“I need my space too.  I’m a hermit sometimes.   I understand that!   I have a bit of a tough time in big groups, which may seem odd given my choice of career, but it’s true.   I get it, I really do.   But coming here for space and to have this –“ he said, sweeping one hand around the horizon, “is only part of the reason you left New York.   You could have had both but you had to get away from him completely.   He was horrible to you – for you - and he was killing your spirit.  You had to come here to live again.   I get it, Hannah!  It’s real and you shouldn’t minimize it.”

“So, you’re telling me how I should feel now? Hmmm, that sounds disgustingly familiar.”  She spat at him, alarm bells going off at full volume.

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy between them, tainting everything so that even the call of the loons sounded forced and artificial.

“You’re right.  I have no business telling you what to minimize or admit or anything.   I was wrong to say it like that because it’s not what I mean.  I should have said that you don’t have to sugar coat things or put on a brave face for my sake.  I may screw up and say the wrong thing, or say the thing wrong, but I won’t belittle or manipulate you Hannah.   I … I wouldn’t do that to you.”  He beseeched her, needing her to show she knew how sincerely he meant those words.

“Okay, it’s okay Richard.”  She patted his hands which still held one of hers.  “This talking thing is pretty exhausting.  I think I’d like to go back to camp and go to bed now.”  She said quietly.  She looked up and could tell how upset he was, even in the dark. “No need to look so stricken.  It’s not you, it’s me.   Oh, come here.” 

Hannah leaned over and gave him a half-hearted hug which was more patting his back than hugging.   “Seriously, I’m not upset with you.  It’s just really draining to think about that stuff let alone talk about it.”

“Yeah, I sort of feel the same way.  Hannah, you know that I will never try to change you or put you down, right?”  He waited for her to answer and the longer she took the more anxious he became.  “A girlfriend once told me I was like that.   It was over 20 years ago but it hit me hard.  I vowed to change and have done.   Since then I hope no one I’ve dated would ever say I’m controlling or insulting.”   He talked so quickly she felt she hadn’t heard half of what he said.

“I don’t think you’d ever do those things on purpose but they can happen unconsciously.   When you wouldn’t let me apologize, it was controlling.   And just now, I was upset but you became more upset so **_I_**  ended up comforting **_you_**.   I don’t think you’re mean, I told you before that I think you’re a nice guy.   But you shouldn’t go around making promises you can’t keep.”

His features went slack and the blood drained from his face.  He tried to speak but it was a nearly incomprehensible raspy croak. “You must hate me.  I’m everything you have every reason to despise.”

“Oh shut the hell up.  Do you think I’d have stayed here alone with you or offered to share my tent if I hated you?  Or was afraid of you? On the upside, you have managed to pull me out of a black hole because I was feeling pretty crappy but you turned it into frustrated and angry.   It may sound like a backhanded compliment, but that’s kinda cool.  I’m not imploding and I can tell you you’re being a jerk, that’s a nice change.”

“You have an odd way of offering encouragement ... but ... I guess I’m somewhat relieved you think I’m a jerk but that I serve a useful purpose, no matter how small.”  He chuckled. 

“You men have such fragile egos.  How do you make it through the day?”

“It’s true.  We do have fragile egos and they need a lot of stroking –“

The both started giggling and at the same time said, “Stroking!”

“Rich?”

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who makes me angry and able to speak my mind all at the same time.  You’re kinda weird.”  Hannah smiled warmly.

“I won’t let it go to my head.”  He grinned, relief washing over him. “You’d probably pelt me with rocks if I did, yeah?”

“Yeah and don’t you forget it!  Ya know, if you’d like to watch the stars for a while longer, I’d be okay with that.”

“Sure, why not?  It’s a beautiful night and ‘watch stars while the sky’s clear’, that’s what I always say.”

Hannah picked up a handful of water and threw it at him. “You’re so full of crap!”

They continued talking about memories and details of their lives.   Richard told her about the impossible schedule he’d kept since the second season of Robin Hood and Hannah told him stories of being a nanny and a paramedic.   They talked about childhood scrapes and school achievements.  They made each other laugh with tales of holiday adventures and family squabbles.   Had Richard not squirmed about they might have stayed there talking until the sun came up.

“It’s my arse.  It’s numb again.  Sorry Hann, I think we must go in.”

“No problem, we probably should anyway.  We’ve got a big day of paddling tomorrow so we need a good night's sleep.”  She said with an audible touch of disappointment.

They made their way back to camp with Hannah pulling in the cord and Richard slowing paddling.   Gear stowed, teeth brushed and beds ready, they crawled into their sleeping bags and zipped up against the damp chill.

“G’night Richard.”

“Good night Hannah.”

“Richard?”

“Yes Hannah?”

“I’m really glad we’re here.”

“Me too.”  He paused, “Hannah?”

“Yes Richard?”

“Sweet dreams.”  He snickered leaving her no choice but to kick him through her sleeping bag before she rolled over and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for Chapter 18 is ready: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-18/


	19. Shipboard Romances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clenches, bravery, Tom Thomson Lake, and evolving communication ...  
> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-19/

By the time dawn began to gently tickle a blush into the sky, the bedrolls in the tent had shifted.  Spooning was too whimsical a word to describe how they were clenched together.  Richard was wrapped tightly around Hannah, holding her to him as if their lives depended on it.   Her head was nestled into him and his arm, which should have been dangling, was held in a vice like grip against her chest.  They were knit closely together and their breathing was synchronized into one loud, snorfling sound. 

Richard awoke first, burying his nose in her mop of hair and smiling at the odd scent which, under the circumstances, was perfection itself.  Campfire and sunshine and tents and dish soap and sleep all combined in the soft mess tickling his nose.  She smelled like who she was, a woman at home in the wilderness and at that moment, the woman who belonged in his arms.

He snuck a gentle little kiss onto the top of her head and felt the weight of pending reality drag him down.  In three more days he’d be back in Toronto and she’d be in Huntsville.  Three more months and he’d be in London or New York and she’d be somewhere in the wild.   Three days, three months … he was beginning to dislike the number three.

He finally met someone who piqued his interest on a multitude of levels and they didn’t live on the same continent.  _Correction, sometimes we do but when it is so, she despises the city I’ll be in and will probably even hate my area code if it shows up on her call display._   

Richard was glad he hadn’t pursued a fling with Hannah.  The idea of a casual romp felt disrespectful for how important she was becoming to him and, more selfishly, he suspected that a taste of honey was worse than none at all.   He silently cursed Smokey Robinson for planting that ear worm in his brain, he’d undoubtedly be humming it all day.

In the course of a week she’d become someone more dear to him than he would have imagined or wanted.   He hadn’t the time or inclination to get involved in a serious relationship, he was a kick at the Hollywood cat and he didn’t want to repeat past mistakes with women.   He’d wasted the time of women he cared about and didn’t want to be that sort of selfish again.  _No, experience has proven it’s best not to have commitments when trying to slay the American film beast._  

Hannah deserved better.  She deserved the best and he couldn’t be that for her.  He was gone too often and for too long.  His life was comprised of too many things she hated and he’d never subject her to the types of pressures she’d experienced in New York.  She deserved so much better than that.  

With a sigh he resolved to enjoy their last three days together, knowing he’d be a richer person for it, if not a little bit lonelier.   When she woke up he’d make a joke about her molesting him and pretend like their hug was blackmail material or some such nonsense.  Until then he’d hold her and let his mind drift along on clouds of ‘what if’ and ‘if only’.   He’d memorize the feel of her and how their bodies fit perfectly together, locking it away in his secret place of lost dreams.

Hannah wasn’t sure exactly when she slipped from sleep to waking any more than she was sure when she slipped from thinking about Richard as a gateway drug to Richard as someone she could deeply care about.   She was startled to find herself clinging onto his arm, fiercely holding him to her.   She’d never been a sleep cuddler, finding the invasion of her personal space claustrophobic to the point it permeated her dreams.  What he was doing couldn’t be called cuddling even in the most liberal of definitions.  He was crushing her to him, enveloping every available inch of her with his own body.  And the bizarre part, as if that wasn’t bizarre enough, was that she was attached to him with the same ferocity.

She felt him kiss the top of her head and tears pooled in her eyes.  She had a cruel, taunting glimpse at what loving him might be like only to know it would be ripped away as soon as they admitted they were awake.   The logical part of her brain knew there was no hope for them but the imaginative, feeling part screamed ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way’.

She wanted to curse and blame him for turning her peaceful, well ordered little world upside down.   She wanted to rail against the fates for dragging her back into a morass of confusion and intensity and messy emotions.  She wanted to elbow him in the stomach and take off running, never looking back.

Hannah was fully aware of wilderness trip romances.  Emotions became raw on clear waters, under endless skies, when the façade of western life was washed away.  Everything was heightened and when you shared that primal experience with someone, it was easy to bond with them.  It was easy to think they were the only person in the universe who could understand what you were feeling and experiencing.   Intimate conversations under a twinkling canopy of stars could unite the most disparate of creatures; euphoria made for strange bedfellows, present company included.  When the romantic lovers regained their lives in the outside world they nearly always woke up in the harsh light of ‘what the hell was I thinking?’, and with the embarrassing need to awkwardly extricate themselves from hasty plans and promises.

It was her comeuppance to get hit with those feelings having had pooh-poohed them so many times in the past.   She’d seen it happen time and again and had the unmitigated gall to assume it would never, not in a million years, happen to her.  But pride goeth before the fall and despite the complete hopelessness of it all, she fell hard.  

From the moment they shook hands he’d had an effect on her.   He stirred things up inside her that she thought were long since dead and buried.   She felt on fire: fire to stand up for herself; fire to be proud of herself – to know she’d done her best; fire to want more from life than her comfortable, peaceful existence; fire deep in her belly to want and be wanted by a virile man; fire to not be able to keep her hands to herself; burning, consuming, passionate fire.

And there she was, lying in the arms of the one who ignited all of it.  If his grip and the hardness of the erection poking into her bum were any indication, he felt at least some of that fire too.

The fates were sadistic bitches!  To give her a glimpse of what it might be like to be with this gargantuan man, only for it to be a tease.   But maybe they had granted her first wish: that he be her gateway to dating again; that Richard’s sole purpose was to show her that she could feel desire and confidence again.   He wasn’t who she was destined to be with, he was part of the journey but not the destination.

Maybe so, but she didn’t want the feelings to end.   She’d accept the warmth and affection he was offering as long as possible, which didn’t feel like it might be long because she had an increasingly urgent need to pee.

Richard felt her wake, the change in her breathing and the fleeting tensing of her body before she relaxed against him.   It made him happy and sad to know she wanted to be in his arms as much as he wanted her there.   She didn’t release or even lighten her grip on his arm.   _Yes, she’s in the same pickle as I am and don’t they say ‘misery loves company’?_

The sun was poking through the trees and both of them had aching bones before they were willing to admit they were awake, that it might be time to break their embrace.

“G’morning.  Sorry, Apparently I’ve stolen your arm.”  Hannah said with a forced chuckle as she let go her vice like grip.

Richard nodded and gruffly said, “Good morning.  Must have been cold last night.”

“Yeah I think it was.  Good wilderness survival instincts by the way, conserving and sharing heat can save lives.”  She said as she struggled out of his arms and rose to leave the tent.

He felt an emptiness in more than just his arms as she beetled her way to the slammer.  With a sigh he got out of the tent and made his way into the woods on the other side of camp to answer nature’s deafening call.

They both washed their hands in the lake, feeling slightly awkward.

“You must think me dim because every morning I ask what the plans for the day are when you’ve given me a perfectly good schedule, which I never look at.”  He gave her a warm smile which she missed because she was making herself busy with a loose thread on her sleep pants.

“Awh, it’s alright.  We have to play it by ear anyway, you never know what the weather will hold.   Are you up for a big trek today?  I was thinking we’d go to Tom Thompson Lake.”  She asked.

“Sure … but, um, isn’t it kind of on the way out?” 

“Well, yeah, it is.  But there are a lot of portages and I thought it might be nicer to not have to rush or carry the camp on our backs.   We can make it there and back in one day quite easily if we travel light.”  She explained.

“Sure.  It sounds interesting.   I’d like to see the place named after me.”  He grinned and this time she saw it and returned it.

They worked together to make a hot breakfast of red river cereal and coffee, lots of coffee.    Richard was even able to get the stove lit on the first try.   He rose to begin clean up and Hannah put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“You get to sit this one out.  You’re off cleanup duty today.   And here, I have something for you … just a sec.”  She turned her back to him and fiddled with something he couldn’t see.  When she turned around she had a squished brownie with a lit birthday cake candle in it and began to sing, “Happy conquer your fear day to you. Happy conquer your fear day to you. Happy conquer your fear day, dear Richard, Happy conquer your fear day to you.”

“Wot is this?”  His eyebrows were scrunched together in amused confusion.

“You stared into the abyss and didn’t let it bite you in the ass.   I’m just really proud of you and you’re … well … you’re kinda an inspiration.   So, happy ‘beat your fears into submission’ day!  You get the last brownie and you’re off clean up for the day.”   She grinned.

His cheeks pinked and he stammered, “I didn’t do anything.  It’s nothing, really.  And I chickened out, remember.”

“Hey, none of that ridiculous mega-modesty crap.”  She laid her hand on his forearm and gently stroked his skin with her thumb. “It’s because you started to chicken out but did it anyway that makes it so great.   You didn’t do something which was easy, you faced something very difficult and did it anyway.  Good on ya!  And … I could do with being a little more like that too, so you’re my role model.”  She grinned up at him.

“Ooooh, let’s not go there!  I’m no role model.”  He obfuscated. “But thank you.  I’ll take the brownie … and the day off washing up.   I’ll just go have a bit of a cleanup while you’re doing this and maybe sun myself on the rocks waiting for you.”

“Arghhh. Go, go sun yourself.  Insufferable lizard.”  She laughed and swatted the arm she’d just been stroking.

After some personal grooming and tidying up their tent, he sat on the rocks for a few minutes but got restless and wandered back to their kitchen area.   Hannah had left everything to dry while she went to get dressed so he checked it and put it all away.   He was hefting up the bear bag when she emerged.

“Hey, I told you to take the day off!”  She chided.

“Oh goodness, if I waited for you to get this done, we’d be here all day.  C’mon, let’s get this show on the road!”  He teased.

“Ha ha, funny guy.  10,000 comedians out of work and I got stuck with you!”

“Nice!  I do something considerate and get abused for my efforts.  No respect!  I get no respect.” 

“And don’t you forget it!  No special treatment around here, Bub.”

They made short work of ensuring the camp was ready to leave and hopped in the canoe, setting off for Tom Thompson Lake.   They paddled back down Burnt Island Lake and into Baby Joe before stopping for a snack.  

Hannah was unusually quiet and Richard hesitated in asking her why.  They had come to a good peace and with the little time they had left, he didn’t want to jeopardize it.  However, it didn’t make sense to pretend he couldn’t tell something was bothering her either.

“What’s up?  You’re unnaturally quiet this morning.”  He asked.

“Hmmm?  Oh, nothing.  Just thinking.”  She popped another scoop of gorp into her mouth and looked at the bag as if it was the most interesting thing on the horizon. 

“Sounds dangerous.”  He said, noncommittally.

She nodded and pursed her lips, a slight frown tugging down the corners of her mouth, “You know how you’re all brave and inspirational and stuff?”

“Ahhh, no.  It’s you who thinks that, not me.  But let’s just pretend I agree with you.  Go on.” 

“Well, you’ve worked hard at overcoming a fear and here you are, enjoying canoeing and being on the water and you even went out into the abyss last night.  You were singing as we went passed Caroline Island for Pete’s sake.”

“Yeah, for which I got splashed so maybe you shouldn’t use my fumbling attempts to sing as an indication of anything.”  He chuckled.

“I have a couple of fears too and maybe I can follow your example and try to overcome them.”

“You’ve been the main reason I’ve been able to enjoy this canoeing business, Hannah, so if, in turn, I can help you, it would be my pleasure.”

Hannah turned twenty different shades of red and closed her eyes before she continued, “Good to know.  I’ll take it under advisement. Want some gorp?”

“No thank you … unless you’ll let me stash some away for any cute little chipmunks who might come calling.” 

“Oh you and your chippies!”  she said, over brightly.

“No.  No Hannah, there are no chippies in my life.  Not for an age.  I’m a bit of a serial monogamist I’m afraid. But don’t tell anyone, it would ruin my image.”  He laughed and wanted to kick himself for saying anything which may be construed as wanting her good opinion or that he might be interested in a relationship with her, no matter how appealing the latter could be.

“Whatever.  Okay, let’s get going.  We’ve got a portage that’s just over a kilometre long and then paddle through Littledoe Lake before we get to Tom Thompson.   You still good to go?”

“Yes ma’am.  Lead the way.”

Hannah was still quiet but she had the expression of someone debating with herself instead of the solemnity of earlier.  When they finished the portage to Littledoe and had put the canoe back in the water she started to speak several times and stopped herself.

She was lily paddling in the bow and Richard was in the stern, taking a swig from his water bottle, when she finally spoke up.

“So that was a way to wake up this morning.”  She said, out of the blue.

Richard choked on his drink and dropped his Sigg.  He hummed his agreement and saw the tips of her ears turn bright red, he could only imagine how flushed her face must have been. 

With a frustrated huff she said, “Look, we both know how we woke up.  And we could pretend like it didn’t happen.  Shit, right now I wish I hadn’t brought it up at all.  But you and your damn being inspiringly brave has wrecked everything.   So we could pretend it didn’t happen and steal awkward, furtive little glances at each other or we can be brave adults and admit it.”

“Yeah, we woke up in a hug and … and it was … nice.”   He admitted reluctantly.  

“And you kissed me.”  She whispered.

“Oh.”  He said and paddled with great concentration.  “I sort of thought you were asleep.”

“I figured as much.”  She snickered, “Guess I could be a good actress too, huh?”

He shook his head and chortled, “Ah, no.  The answer to that is a resounding no.  You’re astonishingly transparent!”

“Oh really?!  So what am I thinking?  Hmmm?”

“You’re thinking that you liked waking up in my arms and you liked it even more that I kissed you.”  His voice was low, filled with a confidence he didn’t possess.

Hannah gasped.  “Well, I guess we _are_ having honesty hour … that was pretty blunt though!”

“You started it.”  He chuckled and she splashed him.

“Oh, alright.  You’re a brat, by the way.  Yes and yes.   And … you did too.  I already knew that though.”  She tried to sound nonchalant and failed miserably.

“And how, pray tell, could you possibly know that?”

“Seriously???   YOU kissed me and … well … there was the matter of … um … we were pressed pretty tightly together … I’d probably know if you had a twitch or anything …”

“What? Speak English, woman!”

“I’m glad you were wearing pants!  There, is that plain enough?!”

He laughed out loud and nearly dropped his paddle in the water.  “Oh, you felt that did you?”

“I’d have to be paralysed from the waist down to not feel it,” she groaned. “It was everything I could do to not gr– never mind, that’s not the point.   The point is, that we woke up all snuggled into each other and we both liked it.  Lord, this is harder than I thought. STOP, don’t say it! No hard jokes!  I just want to get through this.”

Richard snickered and thought she was the only person in the world who could make this wretchedly awkward conversation enjoyable.   

“So, we could pretend it didn’t happen and that we didn’t enjoy it or we can admit it.”  She let out a sigh of relief.  She’d just climbed the Mt. Everest of cringe-worthy social interactions and hadn’t plunged to her death.  It was a good day to be alive.

“What happens next if we admit it?”  He blurted out before he could stop himself.  He needed another good swift kick in the arse.   He hadn’t intended to say anything to make her regret opening up or anything that could hint at a future which they couldn’t have.   Hell, he didn’t have the stones to talk about it and, despite her own demons, she did.   She was the bloody brave one.

“Woah! Evidently empathy isn’t part of your family values.   Talk about putting me on the spot!”   She exclaimed.

“Oh Hannah, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean –“

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I think I understand.  This happens in the park, there’s this shared experience which brings out all kinds of strong emotions which makes people need to connect with someone else who is feeling the same things –“

“I know exactly what you mean.  We have the same sort of thing happen on films.  But Hannah, I know what that is like and this –“

“Oh good, so you understand.  What a relief!   I was so worried you wouldn’t.”  She was relieved he couldn’t see her.   Relief was not what she was feeling but there was no way on the planet she wanted him to know that.  If he thought it was a shipboard romance, all the better.   She’d acknowledged their morning and that was all she could manage.  

He was gutted but he should have been elated.  He was completely off the hook for having her in a clinch and pressing his dick against her, she knew and she didn’t mind.   News didn’t get much better than that.  He wanted to tell her he knew exactly what ‘shipboard romances’ were and they weren’t one.   He didn’t know what the hell it was but it wasn’t one of those.   _But it’s what she wants and it’s the most practical approach so best go with it._

“So what’s the usual route for these ships?   You know, just so I stay on course.”  He said lightly, hoping she couldn’t tell he was acting his arse off.

Hannah was quiet for a few minutes, raking her fingers through her hair and sighing.

“Hey, I could be wrong, but I don’t think you’re the quickie-fling sort of girl.  So, you don’t have to worry—“  He said gently.

Her eyes bugged out and she mouthed to the trees, “Shit, shit, shit – if ever there was a time to have a frickin fling, this would be it.  Once!  Just once I could be the impulsive, naughty Hannah instead of the uber-responsible and practical Hannah”.  But it was for the best, the thought of being just another notch on his belt was sickening.

“That’s right!  I aint no dolly.”  Her laugh was just a little too high pitched in her ears. “Ya know, I didn’t exactly have a master plan …”  _A wish list maybe, but not plan_. Maybe she should have had a plan.

“Right.  No plan and no casual sex.  Got it.”   He played the devil-may-care quite well in his own estimation.  _Bloody BAFTA worthy if the truth be told._

“RICHARD!”

“Oh come now, Hannah.  Don’t play the bashful maiden now.  We’ve been through more than enough to skip that, don’t you think?”

She threw her hands up the air, “Well, I guess you’re right.”  She chuckled, “We did kinda get thrown into the deep end of the pool, huh?”

“Yeah, you threw us in when you yelled my name … twice.”   He teased.

“Nice guy!  Do you have to continue to bring that up?”

“I must. I’m sorry but it must be done.  I believe it’s required by man law.” His tone was patently unapologetic.

“How is it that I’ve caught you with raging boners twice and that’s not the subject of massive embarrassment or teasing?”  She groaned.

“Hehehe, what can I say?  There’s nothing embarrassing about one of my boners.   They’re a matter of pride. If they held a championship for such things, I’d win top prize.”

“Arggghhhhh.  Shut up!  Would you please?!?!?   You’re insufferable!  I can’t believe I like you – even in a shipboard romance kind of way!”   She splashed him with her paddle.

“Hey, at least you admit it – you like me, you really, really like me!  My work here is done.”  Richard laughed and splashed her back.

They had been through more awkward times than most people who knew each other for years.   Their pattern was to, eventually, clear the air and carry on better, or perhaps closer, than they were before the latest blow-up happened.   Their afternoon on Tom Thompson Lake was no exception to their ‘makeup’ pattern of easy banter, trading jibes, comfortable silence and shared appreciation for the beauty surrounding them.   The ease and speed in which they left the awkward state and entered the relaxed state was new but happened without either really noticing – it was natural and … assumed.

There may have been warm smiles, wistful glances and fingers that brushed against each other only slightly on purpose.  There might have been two people determined not to be unnecessarily adventurous or to get their hearts broken.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-19/


	20. Goodnight Hannah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touring Tom Thomson Lake, Richard makes dinner, Richard has a bit of a temper, a night under the stars
> 
> Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-20/

Hannah and Richard explored much of Tom Thomson Lake by following the shoreline and finding interesting little crags to explore. Hannah took dozens of photographs, most with Richard in them, some he knew about and some he didn’t. She was planning to send him an album of his trip and hoped it would make him as happy to look at it as it was making her to create it.

They were a good paddling team. Richard was a strong, true stern-man, able to track the canoe in a fairly straight line with little obvious effort. He was an excellent counterpoint to Hannah who had a strong stroke and could easily have overwhelmed a weaker paddler. By the time they finished touring Tom’s lake and had retraced their path to Littledoe, they were both tired and wanting to relax at camp. They powered through and found themselves back on their campsite in less time than it took to do the same distance in the morning, even though in the afternoon they were paddling against the current.

They pulled their canoe up onto the rocks and Hannah flopped down on their favourite lake watching spot and sighed, “It’s good to be home!”

“Yeah, it is that, isn’t it?! You sit, I’ll fetch the bear bag and put the kettle on. Coffee, tea or chocolate?” Richard asked.

“No no no. You sit, I’ll get it. You’re king for a day for bravery above and beyond the call of duty last night, remember?” Hannah protested.

Richard pushed down on her shoulders as she half-heartedly tried to stand up. “Well, if I’m king for the day, I command you to sit! You were paddling like the Loch Ness Monster was chasing us! You’re exhausted and I want to do this so SIT. DOWN. Stubborn wench!”

“Fine. Whatever.” She grumbled but she was smiling when she did it so her objection didn’t carry much weight.

Twenty minutes later Richard handed her a cup of hot chocolate and sat down beside her.

“Mmm chocolate. Thank you for doing this. I didn’t realized how wiped out I was.” Hannah smiled and bumped shoulders with him.

“My pleasure. It’s nice to do something for you for a change. You’re always taking care of everything by yourself.”

“Um. Hello? It’s my job. Duh!” She rolled her eyes at him but didn’t catch the sudden change in his expression.

Richard fumed, _there it is again, her fucking job. Why does it always have to come down to this being her job?_ It was irritating and it bothered him to no end. He stewed in his juices and thought of all sorts of horrible things to say to her about her ‘job’.

Hannah broke through his reverie, “Hey, what’s up? You’re looking pretty … oh my word! You’re actually looking menacing. What in the world is wrong … or are you just trying to prove a point that you _can_ look menacing?”

He was so close to biting off a stinging retort but when he looked at her ... she was just sitting there, guileless and happy, not the picture of cold hearted capitalism he was imaging. The angry fire was going out. _Might as well try out that newfangled communication thing she’s been on about – talking about your feelings and whatnot._

“Is it really just your job?” He asked quietly, his tone inscrutable.

She gasped. “How can you say—“ his words stung. _How could he possibly say such a thing? I told him I didn’t mind his perky pecker pressing against my back and he has the nerve to ask if it's my job? Again? Hadn’t they been through –_ and she saw his face. He looked like someone just killed his puppy. She took his hand and splayed it across her chest and did the same with her hand on his chest.

“This has nothing to do with any job. This is just us, just you and me, here, now. Our jobs brought us here and we can’t stop doing them but they are limited to what we’re supposed to accomplish, not what’s personal. You have to learn about paddling and camping and Tom; you can’t _not_ do that. I have to make sure you’re fed, safe and learn how to paddle; I can’t _not_ do that. That’s the work part and then there’s the personal part.”

“It’s sort of … oh I don’t know … the last few years … so many people have … I’m a cynical bastard. How many times do you have to tell me this before it sinks into my thick skull?” Puppy was alive and kicking. “You know, back in the old days I would have just moped about it and got cross. You’ve started a revolution with this talking business!” He grinned down at her, “And not only that but you’re sneaky about trying to get me to feel you up.”

She laughed and swatted his hand away. “Catastrophe avoided – I nearly thought you were getting all mature on me there for a moment. Shoulda known better, Giganticus Perverticus.” She leaned over and softly kissed his cheek. “Thank you for the mature part,” she kissed him again, “and for the idiotic part.”

He reached up and cradled her face in his hand, caressing her cheek slowly with his thumb. A light shone in her eyes, a glow which enveloped him in their warmth. She made it well-nigh impossible for him to think straight. When Hannah tentatively copied his touch his breath caught in his throat and when her hesitancy gave way to confidence he thought maybe his heart skipped a beat. He wanted to shake off the silly sentimentality and get a grip but he also wanted to cherish the most tender, sincere intimacy he’d known in … _how long? Oh hell, too long._

It was Hannah who broke the spell. She laughed self-consciously and dropped her hand to pat his shoulder. “Aren’t we just a picture? All swoony like a couple of school kids. Sheesh!”

Richard gave her hand a small squeeze and joined her little laugh, “Yeah, but it’s not half bad as all that, is it?”

“Not at all. It’s pretty nice. Guess I’m just not used to all this bubbly, gushy, stuff.” She grinned.

“You ought to be Hannah, you really ought to be used to every good, romantic thing.” He spoke with deep conviction and looked away before she could see his regret at having done so. _Shipboard romances should never get so maudlin._ “Right.” With a great breath he stood and pulled her up too. “You’ve been stuck with sorry excuse for company all day without a moment to yourself. Why don’t you trek off to your meadow for a bit of a break and I’ll take care of our meal?”

She grinned at him, “Did you just tell me to trek off?”

“Erm, I suppose so, why?”

“Nothing, it just sounds funny that’s all. Like it’s code for ‘sod off’ or one of those other funny British things you say. ‘Oh trek off Hannah, just trek right off’.” She laughed trying to imitate his deep voice.

“Out of my kitchen, miscreant! Get! Trek off and don’t come back for an hour. Take your whistle.” He shooed her away and she went, grinning and shaking her head.

Richard rifled through the food pack, deciding on spaghetti with meat and tomato sauce. He pulled all of the ingredients and re-read the recipe twice. It was a simple meal, the most challenging part was to wait while the meat and tomato leather soaked to re-hydrate. He looked everywhere trying to find the wineskin of port, thinking it might make a tasty flavour boost.

As he puttered around the camp kitchen he considered their conversation. In the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter whether he was just part of her job or not. But for the present, it mattered monumentally. He wanted to be more to her than an impersonal obligation, a client. He couldn’t bear the thought of Hannah being as self-servingly false as some others had been in the recent past.

Miracle of miracles, he hadn’t gone the passive-aggressive route this time. He risked an answer he didn’t want to hear and instead received one he was inconveniently keen to have. Had anyone told him he’d be in the middle of the Canadian wilderness doing all sorts of personal growth shit, he’d have laughed at them.

 

..ooOOoo..

Hannah lay back, looking up at the clouds and wondered how she’d gotten so far off track. It was just supposed to be another guided trip through Main Street, Algonquin Park. It was a trip like so many others, something she could do in her sleep. But from the beginning it was different. _He was different. Nauseatingly, wonderfully different._ They clashed so easily and frequently it was disconcerting. Sure, there were people she didn’t get along with, but they didn’t mean enough in her life to upset it. He did and it was bizarre. To make matters worse, she shocked herself by saying and doing things so thoroughly out of character. It mattered to her when they were at odds and she actually did something about it; _and multiple times too, so it isn’t just a fluke._

She knew she’d been licking her wounds and hiding out for too long. Things weren’t bad enough with Ridley to justify shutting herself away from the world for three years. It had become a comfortable habit to remain so solitary, but not necessarily a good one. Oh sure, when she first arrived she was a mess and needed to mend, but it was more from her own sense of guilt and disappointment rather than anything Ridley said or did. She snorted, _no it **is** because of what he said and did – he turned out to be a rat bastard._

In the beginning she loved New York. She loved taking photographs,  _that sure went sour, eh?_   She had loved Ridley. She hadn’t loved herself enough to stand up for what she wanted or what she believed in. She let Ridley control her, to chart her course even when she knew it was wrong. How could he look out for her best interests when she didn’t know what they were? In the end he was a jerk, but she empowered him and let his initially good intentions pave the road to hell for her. Yes, in the end, she knew he took no more pleasure in trying to control her than she did; he as much as told her that he resented her for it.

Hannah eventually regained her love of photography, snapping pictures at every opportunity and sometimes subconsciously altering plans with a thought to what kind of photos she’d be able to take. She was never without a camera anymore, even if it was just her cellphone.

She regained something else too, something she didn’t know exactly when she’d lost. She regained her feeling of self-worth and belief that she could – that she should - stand up for herself; to be conspicuously grateful when she felt it and to question things which bothered her. _No more modest reticence … well, not nearly as much modest reticence._

Moving to Dwight was the first time she’d ever lived so completely alone and maybe it was the absence of tending to others all the time which gave her the opportunity to tend to herself. That thought made her snicker, imagining what dirty comment Richard would make with it. Tara had been part of her emergence from her cocoon, constantly prodding her along, telling her to not take bullshit from anyone. Tara coaxed her to spread her wings, albeit with a great deal of swearing and obscene suggestions. Tara was blunt in a way Hannah wasn’t used to and she didn’t ask anything of her in return, other than honesty and hard work. _Tara is the best!_

Had she ever been as assertive as she was with Richard? Maybe at some point, but if so, it was trapped in inaccessible memories. She challenged him as she’d never done with Ridley; forcing herself to face and settle issues. It was terrifying and exhilarating and quite possibly addictive. She could have a fight with Richard where she’d never been able to do so with Rid, or anyone else for that matter. It was damn reassuring to know there were men out there that she was able to meet on equal terms, that she didn’t have to be second fiddle in a relationship; that she didn’t want to play second fiddle.

Richard was a wonderful gateway drug; waking her up to possibilities and the certainty that she did want to try again. He inspired her to dream about romance and companionship and passion and laughter and arguing and punching someone in the arm because they were a jerk and forgiveness and inside jokes and teasing and … feeling treasured, respected, considered, and for her comfort and happiness to be important to someone.

He was making dinner so that she could have quiet time. Every part of that made her scream _“I want that! I want someone to know I need space without having to ask for it. I want someone who doesn’t assume things are all on my shoulders. I want someone who wants to do things for me._ ” He was all those things and quite a bit more, _the bastard._ _Why does he have to live in another world, on another planet? Why does he have to be a part of the journey instead of the destination?_

She closed her eyes and let the last warmth of the waning sun warm her face. The breeze blew around her, swishing the leaves on the trees and carrying with it the fragrance of sweet grass and wildflowers. She imagined Richard lying beside her, holding hands and resting his head on her shoulder. She could hear their hearts beating in tandem, their bodies and souls in synchronicity as they drifted off to sleep in their late afternoon languor.

..ooOOoo..

Hannah had been gone much longer than an hour. Richard knew he had no cause to worry because she was incredibly wise about the wilds. _She could probably out Grylls Bear Grylls for Pete’s sake. But what if there’s a bear?_ Or if she fell? He tortured himself with what-ifs. He desperately wanted to go looking for her but knew she’d have his hide if he did - he couldn’t leave the camp with a fire going and food out. And if one person was lost, the other shouldn’t get so too.

He sat with the whistle in his mouth for an age, many times taking a deep breath to blow hard on it and letting it out without a peep. _It 's almost dark, dammit, and even hotshot Hannah can get lost in the woods in the dark._ She and Tara drilled safety measures into him, and walking around in the forest at night was definitely against the rules. Bears and wolves circled her in his mind’s eye. Sinkholes, rattlesnakes, and coyotes swarmed her. She tripped and split her head open … or broke her foot worse than Neve. He resolved to blow the whistle at the top of the hill by the slammer and was on his way there when a slightly mussed and sheepish looking Hannah appeared out of the dark.

“Hi, I kinda fell asl—“

He grabbed her by the shoulders, “Don’t you ever do that again! Do you have any idea how I worried? All sorts of horrible things could have had happened to you. What if you were hurt with no one to help you? What if … ”

She looked up at him with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, his anger and _… anguish?_ overwhelming her.

“Hannah!” He pulled her into a hug and held her tightly against him. He let out a sigh of relief when she hugged him back and he knew for certain she was safe.  “Oh lord, I’m not half the idiot. I’m sorry … didn’t mean … shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You are okay, yeah?” He pried her away and stared at her, holding her by the shoulders again and checking her for signs of mortal damage.

She nodded, her eyes wide but this time from depth of emotion rather than shock.

“Forgive me?” He asked.

She nodded again and gave him a crooked smile, not trusting her voice to speak. No one, not a single person, in my entire life, has ever gone off the deep end worrying about me. She’d never been a reckless person, but still, he was near crazed. At some point she’d have to speak to him about not ripping a strip off someone when you’re worried because it could defeat the purpose of letting them know you care, but until then, she’d graciously accept being the centre of that much concern.

“Good. That’s good.” He pulled her back in for a quick, rib crushing hug and then let go, shepherding her down the hill with his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close to his side. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry. You’re always starving. Dinner’s ready. I found your port and added a scosh to the sauce. It’s incredible by the way. How did you make that tomato leather? I need to keep some in my pantry. Do you want coffee, tea or chocolate? Water’s hot –“

He jumped down over a log and turned to lift her down over it, which amused her to no end. _As if I need to be lifted over a log like a delicate fairy princess or something._ That, combined with his incessant babbling, flipped a switch in her brain. She had her hands on his shoulders when he’d put his on her waist to lift her and she quickly pulled him closer, kissing him on the lips. It was tentative at first, surprising her as much as it did him, with gentleness and sweetness. As his hands tightened on her waist and he pulled her close against him again, the spark burst into a flame. She kissed him so hard she could feel his teeth behind his lips and the rush of tasting him overwhelmed her. She traced the crease of his lips with her tongue and moaned softly when he opened his mouth to her. Her eyes flew open in surprise, she’d never been the initiator before and it was exhilarating. She could see his heady amusement and smiled before throwing herself back into their kiss. Her hands cradled the back of his head, bringing him closer, closer, she couldn’t get close enough to him. _moremoremoremoreyesmoremoremoreohpleasemoremoremore_

She filled up his senses and he wanted more, his greedy mouth took everything she offered, seeking extra. He gave everything she asked for and he wanted to give so much more. They kissed themselves breathless, breaking their lips’ hold to rest foreheads against each other.

“Wow.” Hannah whispered.

“Yeah. Wow.” He nodded with a crooked smile.

“We should …” She looked towards the campfire.

“Yeah, we probably should …” He lifted her down over the log and clasped one hand, bringing it up to his lips for a gentle kiss before walking down the rest of the hill to their kitchen hand in hand.

Dinner was mostly relaxed and smiley, sitting side by side on the log, knees and thighs touching. Occasionally one or the other would break off in mid-sentence and simply say, “Wow!” with a little pause before continuing. They talked about light, inconsequential things, neither willing nor able to concentrate on deep thoughts.

Clean up was slower than usual, with one often gently moving the other out of their way, pausing with hands on waist or on the small of their back, more than was strictly necessary. Or stopping what they were doing to offer assistance to the other on something which required no assistance at all. The stars and moon were out in full glory when they finally finished preparing to hoist the bear bag.

“Why don’t you go down to our rock and I’ll be there in a minute?” Richard suggested and she nodded with yet another smile, or was it the same one which hadn’t dimmed for over an hour?

Hannah sat on the rock and looked out over their domain. She’d had many picture perfect nights on lakes in Algonquin Park but none were as rich and alive as this one. She hugged her knees to her chest and wondered if this was what heaven was like.

“Up a minute?” Richard asked, strolling towards her with a cup in each hand and Neve’s sleeping pad rolled under his arm. “Take these?” He handed her steaming cups of frothy, fragrant hot chocolate. She grinned because he found the amaretto.

Richard unrolled the sleeping pad and folding it to fit on the rocks. “Here, I’ll take those. Sit. Sit.” He motioned to the pad. As she got comfortable he handed the cups back to her again and she scooted over so he could sit beside her on the pad.

“No, no. Don’t move.” He said and slipped in behind her and placed a light little kiss on her neck. “Better?”

“Mmmm. Much.” She nodded and handed him back his cup. They sat sipping their drinks, listening to loons and watching the stars go by until their chocolate was finished. Richard took her cup and set it on the rocks beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin in the crook of her neck, humming softly in her ear.

She didn’t need protection. She didn’t know if she wanted a man to be protective. But she sure did like the feeling of being enveloped in his arms and knowing intuitively he’d protect her life with his own.

“Happy?” He asked simply.

“Mmmhmm.” She murmured and leaned back into him a little deeper.

“Good.” He gave her an extra squeeze in his hug.

They sat there lost in their own little world until the moon had disappeared behind them and they could no longer deny the unpleasant realities of sitting on rocks for long periods of time.

“Ready for bed?” Richard asked. When he felt her stiffen in his arms he amended, “I mean, ready to go to sleep?”

She relaxed and nodded, reluctant for their night under the stars to end no matter how many pins and needles were using her bum as a pincushion.  He took their cups and rinsed them well and  held out his hand to her, to walk back to their tent.

Each completed their evening ablutions and together they tidied up the tent, making it ready for sleep. With just a glance, they arranged the sleeping pads and bags side by each and crawled in. Hannah laid down snuggled into Richard's side with her head pillowed on his shoulder and her arm draped across his waist.

“Hannah?”

“Mmm?”

Richard tilted her chin up with his finger and lowered his lips to hers, “Goodnight Hannah”, he whispered as he kissed her tenderly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-20/


	21. A Great Doorman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning  
> Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-21/

The morning dawned far too soon. Hannah was comfortable and cozy, not wanting to leave her cocoon for anything in the world. Everything was warm and soft and snug ... except for the parts which were big and strong and hard. She was wrapped so securely in Richard’s arms that she didn’t know where she ended and he began. Each time she stirred his only mumbled words were to ensure her comfort before he gathered her in again and kissed the top of her head.

It could have been suffocating to be bound up in his arms. It should have been claustrophobic. It might have been as annoying as hell to not be able to lie like a starfish in her own space the way she liked to do. Instead, the big brute of a man who tried to look so frighteningly menacing was the safest, comfiest, best place of all. The unique thing about him which prompted her to speak up, to argue with him, to push limits, was the same thing which made being gripped in his embrace wonderful - wonderful enough that she didn’t ever want to leave it. But she had to pee so it was going to have to end one way or another and she preferred everyone be dry when it did.

As she was figuring out how to extricate herself without disturbing him, he shifted.

“You’re up.” She said with a smile and kissed the arm strung across her chest.

“Sorry. I tried to move so it wouldn’t bother you.” He groaned a little, clearly uncomfortable.

“What? What are you talking about?” She was confused, but it was very sweet of him to try not to not disturb her as he woke up.

Richard chuckled and did a couple half-hearted pelvic thrusts.

“OH, I get it. You’re UP.” She snickered thinking she probably could get it if she wanted to.

“Yeah, oh joy of joys. Sorry.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, I think I’d be insulted if lying in your arms didn’t do something to you.” Hannah giggled as she elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t go anywhere. I have to pee but I don’t want to start the day yet.”

“Yes ma’am. You sure are bossy in the mornings. I take that back, you’re just bossy.”

“Apparently you’re into bossy.” She teased as she tugged on her sandals.

“I wouldn’t mind.” He waggled his eyebrows. When she looked at him strange he huffed and added, “you know … into … Bossy … proper noun not adjective.”

“Ha! Funny. Actually … that was kinda funny. Good one.” She conceded.

“You’re also a bit dim in the morning!”

“Yeah well, you’re horny in the morning.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She stared at him trying desperately to snap off a witty comeback and coming up dry … again. What did this man do to her senses? Normally she was the queen of the sarcastic retort. She just stood there looking down at him, mouth agape.

“Tsk tsk. I expected better repartee, you disappoint me Hannah. What are we going to do with you?”

Flashes of many things she’d like him to do with her played through her mind and they were projected plainly on her face.

“Oh really? Hurry back, we’ll see what we can do about that.” He gave her the patented Richard smoulder which was the exact right thing to do because while it was devastating to the heart and ovaries, it was also ridiculously out of place in her tent and it broke the spell.

“Ha. You wish. I’m just using you for your hugs. The rest doesn’t matter much.”

“But you haven’t tried my naked hugs yet. I’m certain you’ll like those much, much better.”

“Oh good grief. Go wank or toss or tickle the pickle or whatever you Brits call it. Just go shake hands with the unemployed and be done with it.”

He nodded his head in approval, something about a dirty retort and her telling him to toss off was rather erotic and well played on her part.

As Hannah was washing her hands, Richard called out, “Coming back to bed, Darling?”

“Depends, am I going to get impaled or did you take care of that rager?”

“I took care of mine. Did you take care of yours?”

She feigned shock, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Right! And you weren’t thinking about a little rub, a little roll, maybe a little nibble?” He said as he pointedly looked between her legs and nodded.

She laughed out loud, “You are Filthy with a capital Filth!”

“Oh Darling, you have no idea,” he winked at her, eliciting more giggles. With an arched eyebrow he added, “yet!”

“I was right. Giganticus Perverticus.”

“And you musn’t forget it. Especially that first part.”

They continued bantering and teasing each other, working like an old team to make breakfast and tidy up the campsite. Hannah was contemplating what to do for the day when two things hit her simultaneously: _those are rain clouds moving in and this is last full day in the park together._ Both rapidly sunk her spirits.

Richard noticed Hannah’s abrupt change and waited for her to speak about it.

“I … ah … I just need a minute … be right back.” She waved over her shoulder and took off like a shot to the meadow.

The last twenty four hours had been so perfect she completely forgot that they were on their last hours together. The realization that he would be gone from her life forever the very next day knocked the wind out of her. As inevitable as it was, she wasn’t ready for it to end. She just needed a little more time; a couple more nights squished into his body; many more starry evenings on the rocks; a few more days out in a canoe; more hot chocolate; more jokes; more arguments; a little more time was all she wanted. Desperately.

For the first time since she could remember she wanted more of something instead of less. Her prayers had been for less stress, less worry, less sadness, less awkwardness, less loneliness, less frustration, less demands. Now her heart was filled with pleas for more and all of it had to do with more Richard. She lifted her face to the heavens to plead for more when the first fat raindrop struck her in the middle of the forehead.

“Uh oh. This is gonna be a doozy.” She muttered and left her worries in the meadow while she ran back to camp.

At the top of the hill she shouted down to Richard, “Big storm coming. Everything needs to be secured.” Hannah barked orders at him to bring everything up away from the water and lodge bigger things between close standing trees. They triple roped the tarp over their tent and added the smaller one from Richard’s tent to the leeward side as a wind break. They packed everything which could get wet into the packs and secured them in garbage bags to keep them dry. In less than ten minutes they had everything as ready as it ever would be.

“Tarp is done. Next?” Richard asked, hyper on adrenalin.

“And now … we wait. Cards, reading, Go or Mancala? It’s gonna be a while.” Tension settled onto her shoulders and she was getting one heck of a stiff neck. She closed her eyes and rolled her head around, forward, backward, side to side and grimaced at the sickening cracking sounds it made. A couple of Advils would be in order, but her med kit was packed away and they most likely wouldn’t have access to it for hours.

“Hey, c’mere. Sit.” He said, pointing to a spot between his knees.

“Last I checked my name was Hannah, not Lassie.” She gave him a warning look. “I do not sit on command.”

He snickered, he doubted there was anything she would do on command unless it caught her fancy. He quite loved that she wasn’t a pushover or always trying to please him. She was thoughtful and generous but she was also a storm trooper and he was lucky to come away without open wounds after telling her to sit.

He bowed, “Please allow me to massage your neck in an effort to alleviate the discomfort you are experiencing. Better?”

“Good lord, you don’t have to sound like you’re addressing the queen or something. Just don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.” She griped. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be biting your head off.”

He shivered, “Please. Don’t ever bite my head off. Neither of us would enjoy that! I quite like it where it is.” He did a pelvic thrust to make sure she got the joke.

She snorted and then chuckled, “Good one Armitage. Just don’t give up your day job.” Her head slumped forward as he kneaded the taut muscles in her shoulders. “Mmmm that feels so good. You’re hired.”

“That’s what they all say.” He leaned forward and placed a little kiss on the nape of her neck.

She smiled and sighed contentedly. He took great pride and pleasure in her little sounds and shivers, continuing to work the knots of tension from her neck and shoulders.

“Lay back.” He whispered and kissed her neck again. When she didn’t move or give any indication she heard him he twisted around and found her asleep. He shifted trying not to jostle her and opened up his camp seat. Making himself as comfortable as possible he gently drew her down so that her head was pillowed on his thigh.

He watched her sleep, something he hadn’t done even though they’d slept together twice. He loved the little twitches her nose made when he tickled it and thought she looked like an adorable little bunny rabbit. He thought it probably wasn’t very kind to do that, but it was too much fun to stop altogether.

He brushed her hair back from her forehead and played with it, combing his fingers through the tangled mess trying not to pull and jar her awake. All the while, rain pelted down, thousands of tiny hammers pounding on the tarps, trying to get in. He couldn’t believe she could sleep through the noise.

He considered that his arse was the bane of his existence. Too many times it interrupted a quiet, enjoyable moment with pins and needles and painful numbness. Once again, numb-bum struck. Hannah woke while he tried, unsuccessfully, to relieve some of the discomfort.

“What time is it? Did anyone put the kettle on?” She asked sleepily. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I remember.” She yawned and stretched, narrowly missing poking him in the eye. “That was really great, thanks Richie.” She collapsed down onto his leg again and yawned loudly. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks Hannie, you’re pretty great too.” He smoothed her hair, a little more gingerly.

“Pffft. Ya know, you’re the only person in the world, other than my Grandma, who can get away with calling me that and live to tell the tale.” She poked his thigh with her finger.

“Sorry, didn’t know you didn’t like it. Now that I know I won’t –“

“Nah, s’alright. I don’t mind the way you say it. Just don’t do it around anybody else and give them ideas.” She froze as soon as the words left her lips. There was no scenario in which they’d be somewhere in public together where he could do such a thing.

“Hey, what’s wrong? All of a sudden you –“

“Nuthin. I just remembered that today is our last day here.” She shrugged and tried to make light of it but her sadness was written all over her.

“Shhh. S’okay.” He pulled her up into his lap and cradled her in his arms. “Shhhh. It’s alright.” He slowly stroked her back and eased the tension away again. “Is this why you needed Meadow Time earlier?”

Hannah nodded.

‘So bittersweet’, he thought and smiled. “I guess this means you really like me, you _like me_ like me, you know, a lot.”

She pulled back and stared at him with the angriest eyebrows he’d ever seen. “Don’t you dare make fun of me right now!” she spat.

“Wait a second, time out! You don’t need to snap. I was trying to make you laugh, I wasn’t laughing at you. Geez, Hannah, gimme a little credit.”

She sighed heavily and hung her head, “I’m sorry. I’m just not very good at …you know … this.”

“And what is this exactly?” He asked, tilting his head to look at her but unable to find her behind the curtain of hair shielding her face.

“You know … this.” She said, pointing back and forth between them.

“Ah yes. The shipboard romance.” He closed his eyes and his whole face drooped.

Her head jerked up. She could swallow what she wanted to say like she’d done for most of her life, or anxiety be damned, she could just spit it out.

“Richard, I know shipboard romances and this isn’t one.” She couldn’t find the words to say what she wanted, but that was close enough. If he had half a brain in his head, which she was sure he did, he’d know what she meant.

He was perfectly still. Each fraction of second felt like an eternity while she waited for his reaction. _Maybe having no reaction is a reaction in and of itself._ She took a deep cleansing breath and accepted the fact that it wasn’t always brave to charge ahead, sometimes it was just plain stupid.

“No, it bloody isn’t.” Richard said and lifted her face to him. He searched her eyes for a split second before kissing her hard. She could feel the energy coiled within him, he was restraining himself and still his kiss was more powerful, more passionate than any she’d known.

Hannah shifted in his lap so that she could kiss him back properly, so that she could hold him and feel the strength of him under her fingers. She wanted to know him, she wanted to feel him, all of him, and not stop.

A sob escaped. She pulled back from him with unshed tears filling her eyes. “It’s going to kill me to say goodbye tomorrow.”

“So, don’t.” He said before he kissed her without restraint or caution or pragmatism or any gentlemanly thought whatsoever. He kissed her with raw emotion, laying himself bare and offering himself to her.

Hannah raised up and straddled his thighs so that she was face to face with, if not slightly above, him. It was exhilarating to see him eye to eye instead of craning her neck. Richard was stunningly beautiful with the most incredible eyes, full of passion and heat just for her. He wanted her, he needed her as much as she wanted and needed him.

The feel of his hands as they slid under her shirt and glided up her sides made her tremble. He caressed and tugged on her, drawing her closer; splaying his hands across her back pulling her tightly against him, seeking the feel of her under his palms, under his lips.

She was lost on a sea of sensation. His mouth and his hands made her quiver with every movement, his low throaty murmurs of her name sent her careening off the edge of reason. Nothing existed but them; their bodies singing, crying out for each other.

Hannah tugged his shirt from his trousers and felt little orgasmic paroxysms throughout her body when she ran her hands over his chest. Being held against that chest had in no way prepared her for the primal euphoria of touching his bare skin; soft skin and hard muscle with fine silky hairs which begged to be stroked. Feeling his involuntary spasms as her fingers grazed his belly gave her a courage and confidence she’d rarely experienced in her life. She was tossed about on wave after wave of heady desire, wanting to feel more of him and more by him.

She cried out when his thumbs caressed the sides of her bra. Her breasts ached to be held in his hands; to be kissed and sucked by his lips; to be nibbled and nipped by his teeth; tasted by his tongue; to be traced and pinched and kneaded by his fingers. He was going so slow, too slow. She wanted to rip her bra off and rid herself of the barrier between them.

“Please Rich, touch me. I need you to touch me.” She murmured in his ear as she sucked his tender lobe between her lips and scraped it with her teeth. His hips bucked under her and he let his head fall back with a low moan, his hands gripping her tighter.

She was too impatient, she undid the clasp of her bra with one hand, sliding the other down between them to lightly cup him and trace small circles on the taught fabric of his trousers. His whimper was gasoline on the fire already blazing within her. She wanted to touch him; to feel him in her hands and in her body; to taste him; and to mark him as hers.

She slid backwards, kneeling over his knees and he protested at the loss of contact, trying to pull her back up his body. He stopped fighting her when he opened his eyes and saw that she was undoing the button and zipper of his trousers. He spasmed and twitched as her fingers brushed the soft hairs below his belly button, thinking of nothing but the need to be one with her.

“Hannah, I want you. I need you so much. I lo--”

The entire tent was lit up as lightning flashed within feet and the immediate boom of thunder shook everything like a rag doll. The smell of ozone filled the air and the sound of a cracking tree trunk was a violent encore.

Fully, immediately aware of the danger they were in, Hannah shouted, “Get up. We have to get out of here. NOW.”

Not knowing where the damaged tree was or which way it might fall, Hannah scanned the campsite for signs of the lightning strike.

“There!” Richard pointed to a massive pine not twenty feet away.

Pelted with rain and trying to watch for danger in every direction at once, Hannah examined the pine as closely as she could. It was steaming and hissing from the lightning strike and did not invite close inspection. The damage was certainly enough to kill the tree, but there appeared to be sufficient uninjured trunk to hold it together.

“It’s okay. We’re safe. Get in the tent.” Hannah shouted back to Richard.

He watched her from under the tarp, feeling like an idiot that she was out there protecting them and he was … well, standing under a tarp. All he could do was hold the door of the tent open while she rushed in. If nothing else, he made a great doorman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/algonquin-bound-~-chap-21/


	22. Bring Your What to Where?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drenched, upset, a suggestion

The tent was tall enough for Hannah to stand upright in the very centre, where she did so, shivering and rubbing her arms.

“You’re soaked to the skin and freezing.” Richard said, digging around in the large canoe pack in the corner. He pulled out a sleeping bag and motioned to her, “C’mere Hannah.”

“I’m fine, just a little soggy, that’s all.” She protested.

“You are not fine. Your lips are grey and you’re shaking like a leaf. Please come here.”

Hannah just stared at him, pre-occupied with thoughts of what might have happened to him if that tree had fallen.

“If Hannah won’t go to the mountain, the mountain will go to Hannah.” Too tall for the tent, Richard awkwardly bear walked over to her in an uncomfortable crouch. “Lift your arms.” He instructed.

She did so without debate and he peeled off the drenched shirt, tossing it into the corner. Without the shirt to keep it in place, her unclasped bra fell away. He hesitated for a moment, not sure where they were with regards to modesty but knowing she needed out of the wet clothes. She was quite capable of speaking her mind so he decided to risk going forward, confident she’d say stop if she wanted him to.

He was knelt in front of her and opened the Velcro of her Tevas. “Lift.” He tugged off her sandals and tossed them over to where the wet shirt lay. Richard undid the button and zip of her trousers, struggling to pull the clinging material down and off her legs. “Step.” He said and she lifted her feet one at a time. The pants joined the soggy pile in the corner. Her panties were wet too but he thought it a tad too much to ask of her dignity to remove them. The thought of kneeling before her naked body would be fantastic under other circumstances, and probable had the last 5 minutes hadn’t happened, but not like this.

With a tiny sigh, he reached behind him to grab the sleeping bag and wrapped it around her like a gigantic swaddling blanket. He plopped down on the floor and gently tugged her down to sit in his lap. He held the shivering bundle tightly in his arms and rocked back and forth, pausing to vigorously rub her arms (or where he assumed her arms were) in the giant cocoon.

“How are you doing? Warming up yet?” He spoke quietly by her ear.

“You … you’re okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried for – you charged out of here so fast and you got soaked through to your bones. Are YOU okay?”

“Richard, that tree … if … it could have … you might have been killed!” She said in horror.

He pulled back and turned her so that he could see her face. He was gobsmacked, he couldn’t make sense of her. She went like a bolt to a tree sizzling and steaming from a lightning strike without thought for her own safety and her only worry was for him? They were necking one moment and she threw herself in harm’s way for him the next, it was dizzying and not half terrifying.

“Shhh. None of that now. We’re both perfectly fine. Well – you’re freezing in your skivvies but I get to hold you and warm you up so it’s actually a win for me.” He said lightly. He needed time to figure this mess out. And it was a mess, a giant, tangled, complicated mess. It was bad enough wanting to explore something with her, it was another thing entirely to know without question that she would protect his life with her own.

She was unexpected. He snorted at that, unexpected was the understatement of the century. In less than a fortnight he’d gone from a slightly cynical singleton to a frothy minded simpleton. _How the hell does that sort of thing happen to someone like me? How the hell does Hannah Reading, who is not an obvious choice for an international heart throb (snort), change all the rules of the game? Scratch that, she throws the game out the window._ With Hannah there was no game. No, no game, but complications a-plenty.

He had no inkling of an idea how in the world they would manage the coordination of their disparate lives but he knew they surely had to try. He thought he should likely move heaven and earth to try. _One step at a time, that is certainly the key._ He wouldn’t get overwhelmed by the big things, they’d slowly chip away at the obstacles one at a time and later look back at what a lovely job they’d made of it.

He was lost in thought and didn’t hear her calling his name. She threw her head back, crashing it into his chest to get his attention.

“Earth to Captain Kirk. Come in Captain!” She mocked.

“What? Oh sorry. Say again?” He asked, laughing at her expression as she lay twisted back on his arm looking up at him.

“I said sorry for freaking out on you. I’m not a very good guide I guess.”

“Wot? What the hell are you talking about? Are you a loony?” He said incredulously and a little too loudly.

“Seriously! I’m sorry for panicking when I got back to the tent and doing the whole catatonic thing. I shouldn’t have done that. The thought of what the lightning or that tree could have done to you …” She shivered again.

“Oh thank goodness you did that.” He said solemnly.

“Huh? What? Are you nuts?”

“No. I’m relieved you did the whole catatonia thing, as you call it. It means it’s much easier for you to appreciate – and we all know empathy is not your strongest suit – exactly how I felt when you went rushing towards a hissing, steaming tree in the middle of an electrical storm! ARE YOU INSANE, WOMAN? You might have been killed! I just found you, how could I possibly lose you now????”

“You … found me?” Hannah

“Yes, you ninny. What do you think? I go about trapping every woman I meet in my arms so she can’t leave me even as I sleep? Or that I want to snog the lips off every woman when I see her smile? Really, you think I’m that much of a slag? Nice! Guess I’ll have to work on your low opinion of me if this thing is going to work.”

“This thing is going to work?” She squeaked.

“Hello? You were there, were you not? You said it would kill you to say goodbye. I said ‘then don’t’. Asked and answered: not saying goodbye. We’ve a thing – even if your opinion of me is horribly low which makes me think I must have latent self-esteem issues to dive into something so wretchedly one-sided.”

Hannah’s arms shot out from underneath the sleeping bag and she flung them around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. She kissed him soundly and pulled back smiling, “Not one sided at all by the way.”

“So I was right. You like me. You really, _really_ like me.”

“A bit. I like you a bit.”

“Mmm. That’s a good start. Now, about that snogging …” He pulled her in close and kissed her fully completely, tasting and exploring her lips for another first time. He tried to smooth her wet, tangled hair from her eyes and chuckled when he encountered immovable knots. “You’ll have to let me brush your hair, it needs me.”

Hannah smiled and shook her head at his fluffy sweetness. She reached up to smooth his fringe from his brow and froze when the sleeping bag fell, revealing her naked breasts. She looked down and back up at him and gasped when he whispered, “Beautiful.”

Richard dipped his head and kissed her neck, languidly exploring its gentle curves with his lips and tongue. Hannah forgot all about her unnecessary modesty and threw her head back with a happy moan, giving him unfettered access to kiss and nibble and suck all along her sensitive skin. He was forging a delicate trail from the thrumming hollow at the base of her throat to her shoulder when thunder rent the air. It was far, far too close for comfort, startling both of them and making Hannah bolt upright, narrowly missing whacking Richard in the nose with her head.

She gathered the sleeping bag around her to cover her nakedness and turned to him, disappointment mixed with alert concern, “Right place, wrong time. We have to stay prepared Rich; we’re safe from the rain but not from falling trees or branches. I’m so sorry –“

“Shhh. No apologies. Do you, um … you should take my shirt. Here …” He pulled off his henley and gave it to her with a crooked smile. The humour of the situation wasn’t great, but there was something having to do with literal cold showers. “What can I do to help?”

She thought for a moment, they found themselves in hurry up and wait mode. The rain was not hitting hard on the sheltered south side of the tent so they partially unzipped the window and kept watch on the sky. The wind continued to whip through the trees, snapping small branches and sending forest floor litter whirling in the air.

“Should we sit and be comfortable while we wait?” Richard suggested.

Hannah shrugged her shoulders, “Sure, why not?! I want to keep an eye on the window though.”

“Of course.” Richard sat in the middle of the sleeping pads and spread his legs wide, patting on the floor between them, “Your seat, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Corny and horny. The surprises just never end with you!”

“I’m an acquired taste. You’ll grow to appreciate me.”

He laughed as her eyebrows knit together and she suppressed a smirk, “Doubtful, but we’ll humour you and pretend it’s possible.”

“How generous of you. We can’t do anything which will unduly divert your attention, so do you have a preferred alternative?”

Hannah wanted to ask what he meant by ‘don’t say goodbye’ but she had already used up the day’s allotment of superhuman courage so she didn’t. He knew only a very small part about her life and she knew none of his. How could those two unknowns possibly combine? It looked completely impossible and she suspected he should be hung, drawn and quartered for even suggesting it wasn’t.

“You’re awfully quiet down there.” He said and kissed the top of her head.

“Just thinkin’” She said distractedly.

“Good lord, not again. That’s twice in one day. Anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“Are you claiming to have class?” She twisted her head to look up at him.

He smiled, _she isn’t ready to talk about it_. “Oh oodles of class. My class has class. You wanna see my class?” He squished her tight and tickled her sides. She screamed and flailed and tried to tickle back, to no avail.

“Brute!”

He screwed up his face and jutted out his jaw. “Me Brute. You Brute’s Woman!” He beat his chest and grabbed her with one arm around her middle as if he was going to swing her about and cart her off to his cave.

Hannah looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I’m nuts, that’s what I am. Putting my faith in a Brute! What sane woman does THAT?”

“You have faith in me? I think I like the sound of that.” He grinned and beat his chest again.

They goofed around, laughing and mocking each other, dancing around the subject of the future but never quite addressing it. The rain slowed down to a pleasant downpour allowing them to unzip two more tent windows.

“Mmm. That breeze feels good.” Richard said and kissed the top of her head for the 49 gajillionth time. “This is quite nice, sitting here listening to the rain and not worrying about being crushed by falling timber.”

“Mmmhmmm”

Hannah was quiet again. He had identified three types of Hannah quiet so far: happy & relaxed; not wanting to disturb the peace; and there’s something heavy on her mind. This was undoubtedly the latter. Best not to push.

“Rich?”

“Mmm?”

“What did you mean by ‘so don’t’?”

He was afraid she was going to ask that. He had no answers, no master plan, no common sense reason why they should even try. _Common sense doesn’t enter into it._ He didn’t want to pull a ‘Ridley’ and manipulate her for his own idea of what’s best. _The unvarnished truth will have to do._

“I know what I wanted it to mean but I don’t know how to make that happen.” He paused, “Our lives are so different –“

“Oh.” _Well, there it is, he regrets saying it already._ The ebullience she’d felt quickly ebbed away. It was time to abandon ship and get back to reality. She resolved to say prayers every night for a year, giving thanks for a lightning storm which interrupted just in time to prevent her from making one of the biggest mistakes of her life. He was talking but she wasn’t listening, too busy trying to stay afloat with wave after wave of loss and regret and disappointment washing over her.

Richard jostled her, “So I’ve done all the talking, what do you think?”

“Yeah, you make a lot of sense. Hey, I think the rain’s let up enough for me to use the slammer. Gotta go. Be back in a few. Might check for damage.” She bolted out of the tent wearing only Richard’s shirt and her knickers, grabbing her Teva’s as she went.

Richard stared after her confused and concerned. _What was so objectionable that she needed to escape so indelicately?_ He gave her lots of ideas, promised he would never ask anything of her she didn’t want to give, he’d sell the New York condo if she wanted him to. _Was it too much too fast? Fuck! It was._ He was pushing her, making life changing decisions as if they were deciding what to have for dinner.

Maybe unvarnished honesty wasn’t such a fine idea after all. Maybe a little varnish was a good thing. It had been so long since he’d had a real, meaningful relationship he sort of forgot how those things worked. To be honest, he’d never been outstanding at them anyway, always so focused on his career. _To hell with that! I’m not about to let Hannah slip through my fingers._

Hannah was soaked by the time she reached the meadow but she couldn’t have cared less. She berated herself for thinking things would be different, that with a little work and a little luck she could be happy with someone. _No such luck, it’s not in the stars for me, at least not with him._ She enjoyed the intimacy, maybe she should try the dating thing after all. Apparently she could be enjoyable company for a while.

For the life of her she couldn’t pinpoint what she did to change his mind. It felt to her that they were having a wonderful time. Laughing and sharing secrets and the kissing; _Holy Hannah, the kissing!_ That could not have been all in her head. The kissing was worth the heartache. But what had she done? What changed? The more she thought about it the more ticked off she became. She was pretty sure she hadn’t done anything wrong and if he changed his mind because she said they shouldn’t have sex during a lightning storm, well she’d have to kick his ass from here to kingdom come. By the time she was ready to head back to camp she was cold, wet and ornerier than a bear with a hangnail.

She marched down the hill ready to have it out with him. She was not going to be the quiet little mouse who accepted everything dished out to her. _No, not this time._

Richard was sitting just inside the tent’s door flap when he saw her barrelling towards him, and she was furious. He sighed, he was glad she found her voice, he just hoped it wasn’t going to hurt him much.

“Hannah, I –“ He started.

“Don’t you dare ‘Hannah’ me! What makes you think you can just imply there’s some kind of possible future with someone and then take it back? Huh? How do you do that? What kind of guy does that? Well, if you think I’m just going to sit by and ... and thank you for it, you’ve got another think coming. I –“ She fumed at him.

“Wait a second. What in hell are you talking about? I thought you were mad because I was pushing too far, too fast!” He looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language.

“What? Pushing, no! Pulling away, yes. You’re insane! You said our lives are too different and you don’t know how it could work. Did you just say ‘don’t say goodbye’ so I’d have sex with you?” She demanded.

“HANNAH! Three things: last one first NO I DID NOT LIE TO YOU TO FUCK YOU. Is that really what you think of me? Don’t answer that! First thing, I did not say our lives are too different to make it work, I said ‘I know what I wanted it to mean but I don’t know how to make that happen.’ And then I started to say ‘Our lives are so different but in very good ways’ but you interrupted me. Finally the second thing, did you hear a word I said before you stormed off?”

She looked confused, “Not really. I was too upset that you said it couldn’t work which ... I take it ...  isn’t what you _really_ said?”

“No, you moony cabbage!” He shook his head and laughed in relief. “I was giving you a great long list of all the things we CAN do but the most important, if you had been listening you’d know this, was to TALK to each other and TRY our best to make it work.” He looked to the heavens for patience.

“Oh.” She bit her lip and looked at her feet.

“Yeah, 'Oh'.” He opened up his arms, “Oh come here you big dafty.”

She shuffled slowly towards him. It was hard work changing gears from righteous indignation to total embarrassment.

“You’re hard work, aren’t you?!” He said, patiently holding his arms open.

“Maaaaaaybe.” She said, sheepishly and took the final step to put herself within his reach.

He pulled her hard against his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly, leaving no possible means of escape to a meadow or that island of conclusions she was wont to jump to. Hannah was hugging back just as enthusiastically when he suddenly pushed her away from him.

“You’re worse than a bloody dog!”

“What? What did you call me?”

“Out playing in the rain, you’re all cold and wet and you come in the house and shake and get it all over the place. Look at me! Just look at what you’ve done!” He grinned and pointed to the watery evidence all over his undershirt. “I’ve already given you one shirt off my back, and now you’ve ruined the other one. What am I to do with you?!?”

“I have a few suggestions but I think we should probably figure out if this Not-a-Shipboard-Romance thing can survive outside the park. You know, sober second thought and stuff.” She was solemn as she thought it through.

“Reluctantly agreeing. Although you must know, it’s only my brain which is agreeing, the rest of me is quite put out.” He chuckled and thrust against her.

“Any chance you might like to repeat that at a date to be announced later?” She grinned and nudged against him.

“Of that you may rest assured!” He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, making discoveries and promises with every brush of his lips and every taste of his tongue.

The rain slowed to a gentle drizzle, making everything look brilliant green and magnificently lush. They sat in the tent with the door flap open, wrapped in the sleeping bag and watching the mist collect into droplets before falling from leaves to the ground below. It was hypnotizing to stare into the trees and see the drops fall, the leaves springing up with the freedom from the slight weight of the droplets, while the leaves below sank under the sudden plops.

Hannah developed a definite fondness for Richard’s arms; ghosting her hands over the luxurious silky hairs which tickled her palms, holding on gently and massaging him with her thumbs, or tracing the veins with her finger. She worked up her courage as she played with those wonderful arms.

“I was wondering ….” She said tentatively and stalled.

“You were wondering?”

“I was wondering if you might repeat some of those things you mentioned we could do once we leave the park?” Hannah asked.

“What filthy things we can do with each other? Mmm, dirty talk, I think I like it!” He chuckled.

“No! Well … maybe later. But that’s not what I meant, Giganticus Perverticus. I meant, how do we go from Algonquin to real life?”

“Once I get back to Toronto I’m in pre-production for two weeks. That’s quite light, normal working hours and all that. I was hoping you might come to town maybe once or twice. After that I’m filming which is quite a slog, but we could see each other on Sundays. The best part of filming is when we go on location. We’ll be here in the park for six weeks. Six weeks Hannah! I wondered if you might like to be an extra, I could ask and am certain they would approve.”

She sat stunned. _He truly had thought about it, quite in depth too by the sounds of it._ “You … I … we …”

“I think ‘us’ is the word you are looking for. Say it with me ‘us’. Doesn’t that sound lovely? Us,” he teased.

“I don’t know about the movie thing. It sounds … overwhelming.”

“It would probably be paddling back and forth in the background of shots, that sort of thing. You wouldn’t have any lines at all. But we may be able to wrangle a quick close up.”

“NO! No close ups!” She sat thinking for a few minutes, “I guess I could paddle.”

Richard’s alarm bells went off. “Hannah, if this ‘us’ thing is going to work we’re going to have to be brutally honest with one another. I don’t wish to push you into things just because they’d be convenient for me. I’m not Ridley and I don’t want to become like him. Please, don’t say yes unless you truly want it.”

She smirked and patted his cheek. “And what gives you the idea I’d do anything for your convenience? Ego much?”

“Hannah …”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, stop being so adorable or you’re gonna make me cry and then I’ll get embarrassed which will make me get mad and then I’ll have to punch you or something.” She gave him a playful swat. “I’d want to find out more about it, but based on what you’ve said, yeah, I could do that. You’ve seen where I work, I can see where - ha, it’s kinda like bring your girlf—“

“What? What were you going to say?” He grinned evilly.

“Nuthin’. Forget it.” She took a breath and mentally berated herself for almost saying the ‘g’ word.

He pulled her hair back and whispered in her ear, “Were you going to say 'bring your girlfriend to work day'?”

Hannah mumbled, “Maybe.”

“It’s precisely like that.” He kissed that sweet, soft spot below her ear and squeezed her tight.

She gasped, whether it was from his words or his kiss, it didn’t matter. The world was spinning but for once she didn’t want to hop off.


	23. Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foxy, steamy, packing up, zipped together

Watching the rain while snuggled up was fine for a while, it was fantastic for a while. Eventually thirst, hunger and the call of nature reared their demanding heads, forcing them to put their schmoopiness on hold for the sake of their bellies and their bladders. Everything outside was drenched and there was still too much of a wind for a fire so they donned their rain gear and made a light meal with the Whisperlite stove.

Laughing, they each threw a handful of left over ingredients in the pot to make stewp – a concoction which fell somewhere in the spectrum between stew and soup: a little hamburger; a few pieces of jerky; barley; veg; mushrooms and the last of the tubers. Hannah broke off a piece of the tomato leather and tossed it in with a shake of bouillon and set the herbs aside to add towards the end of cooking.

“This is either going to be amazing or atrocious, there’s no middle of the road for this meal. Dig out anything else we can serve with it but keep something back for lunch tomorrow. Are there any pitas left? PB&J pitas are always good for lunch.”

Tea biscuits, bannock, dried fruit, oatcakes, chocolate pudding, fruit leather, pepperoni, raisins, sunflower seeds and various mixes lay forlornly in the bottom of the food pack.  Richard pulled out all of the odds and sods of left overs. 

“Hey, can you make those dumplings? They might be good. There’s a bit of the scone mix here, that’s what you use, yeah?” Richard asked.

“Sure, mix it up and bring it over. You just drop the blobs on top of the stew and cover for the last 20 minutes of cooking. Easy peasy. Oh, I need a couple of tablespoons of cornstarch for gravy.” She smiled and felt a treacly sweet gush of sappy emotion flow through her, tingling and giddy and blissfully happy. Cooking with him in the great outdoors was as close to heaven as a body could get while still breathing. _Well, as close as we can get with our clothes on._

“What was that look for?” His eyebrows quirked up at the odd expression on Hannah’s face.

“Nothing.” The tips of her ears turned bright red and started a pink tsunami down her neck and over her cheeks. “Nothing at all.” She poured all of her concentration into stirring their dinner.

“Right. Why don’t I believe you?” Richard teased, “and why does it look sort of interesting?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Is that a challenge? By now you should know what will happen if you challenge me.” He gave her a devastatingly lecherous leer.

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I’m afraid of. Why don’t you go make yourself useful and get all your stuff ready for packing out tomorrow?” She waved her hand to shoo him off.

They enjoyed being insulated in their own little world and all of that would end as soon as they beached at Canoe Lake. While she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, Hannah didn’t dread it as much as she had the day before. The afternoon yielded hope where previously there was none and even though it was only a tiny sliver, some was better than none at all. If nothing else, they would have the weekend together to see if the idea of getting involved had legs outside the Park.

Hannah was mulling over the potential pitfalls to seeing Richard in Toronto when she heard a loud gasp, some swearing and looked up to see Richard making a bee-line to the fire pit with a dark expression.

“’Sup?” She asked.

He shrugged and gruffly said, “Oh nothing. Just needed a break.”

“Oh really?” She looked up at him from under disbelieving eyebrows. “Is Bruce, or maybe the racoon, back?”

“No. What are we going to do with the rest of Tara and Neve’s gear? They didn’t take everything with them.” The tops of his cheeks and the tips of his ears were crimson and the abrupt change of subject wasn’t fooling Hannah.

“Pack it in with ours as much as possible. If it turns out there’s more gear than we can carry out, we’ll have to hang a bear bag and Tara or I will come back for it.” She stirred the soup and asked again, “So, ‘sup? You didn’t beetle back here to ask that.”

“There might be a … you know … it looked like … well there might be a reasonably large snake in front of our tent.” Richard no longer bothered to disguise his heavy breathing.

“Yeah, there’s lots of snakes around here. Is that a problem? You can just pick it up and take it off into the woods or if it’s a water snake, just take it down to the rocks.” Hannah suggested.

“I thought it was my turn to mind supper.” He said, sheepishly.

“Right. Got it. I understand. Why don’t you stir the stewp and I’ll go check it out?” She smirked.

“Oh you don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it later.” He magnanimously, if not sincerely or enthusiastically, offered.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind. I haven’t seen many snakes this trip. Feels like I’m off quota or something. Be right back.” Hannah chortled.

Hannah strolled over to their tent, chuckling all the way. _Big strong he-man is afraid of a little non venomous snake_. _It's probably a water snake, they grow to a decent size and might look a little intimidating if you don’t know how shy they are._

She looked around the tent and didn’t see anything at first. When she nudged the clothing pack there was movement off to the side.

“Oh aren’t you a beauty?!” She picked up and cooed at the patterned reptile. “Oh sweetie, I haven’t seen one of your kin for ages. And you’re a big girl too aren’t you?! So pretty.” She let the snake stretch out along her arm and estimated it was over four feet long. “Let’s go say hi to Rich.”

Hannah held her arms so that 'Foxy' could coil up on herself and she walked back to the camp kitchen. Richard looked up as she approached, his smile quickly fading.

“Um. Why do you have a rattlesnake in your arms?” He tried to sound nonchalant and failed miserably, his voice at least a full register higher than usual.

Hannah stroked the snake and cooed at it. “Rich, I’d like you to meet Foxy. Foxy this is Richard. I know you’re terrified of him dear, but he’s more afraid of you than you are of him. See, the poor fellow is shaking in his boots and all because of a sweet little thing like you.”

“No offense, but please put that thing away.” Richard grumbled. “Seriously, get it out of here!”

Hannah held her arms out towards him, “Richard come and meet our neighbour, this is Foxy the Eastern Foxsnake. She’s a lovely little girl to have in your neighbourhood, she only eats the things which are real pests and is otherwise as gentle as a lamb. Now come say hi so I can take her somewhere safe.”

“I’m not going near that thing.” He growled.

“Well, I’m not going to put her down until you come say hi. It’s kinda rare to find one on a campsite at all but this sweetie is a gem, she’s a big beauty, aren’t you darling?!” She gently stroked the snake and murmured at it.

“I’m not touching it!” He mumbled stubbornly, stopping at least two feet before he reached Hannah.

“Stroke her along her back and then on her belly. You have to feel her for yourself.” She looked up at his grey pallour and the grim set to his lips and sighed. “Do you trust me?”

“Not really.” He said in a clipped voice.

“Yes you do. I would never risk my health or yours, you know that. Now come here and face your fears.” She chided.

He stood an arm’s length away and touched Foxy’s middle with his index finger for 0.1256 of a second. “Okay. Done. Now get it out of here.” He snarled.

“Nope. You’re going to hold her! You’re going to face this and realize there’s nothing to be afraid of – this is easier than canoeing.” She said calmly and firmly.

Anger blazed in his eyes. “You are neither a therapist nor am I seeking treatment. If I don’t want to touch snakes, I’m bloody well not going to touch snakes. Now get that fucking thing away from me!” He ground out from between clenched teeth and stormed off towards the meadow.

Hannah reached over with one hand and turned off the stove. “C’mon Foxy, let’s find you a safe place to go.” She climbed through the brush to find a comfortable spot for Foxy a few hundred feet from their camp. “Now, I don’t mind but the Mr. isn’t fond of visitors so you stay over here, okay?” She gently set down the snake and walked slowly back to camp.

She wanted to kick herself. If there was anyone on the planet who understood fear and anxiety, it was her and yet she pushed Richard way beyond his limit and made him feel small on top of it. He was crystal clear how he felt and she disrespectfully dismissed his fears out of hand.

 _Fear isn’t rational, it isn’t reasonable. Fear is a lying, hungry monster who does’t speak English – you can’t say ‘excuse me’ and have it go away politely. You know that better than anyone, Hannah – you insensitive jerk!_ Fear devoured reason and spat out its mangled bones on the floor. She gave herself a shake and groaned, not only was she a terrible friend to Richard but she’d started thinking in metaphors.

When she got back to camp she put the kettle on and made a cup of hot chocolate for both of them.  With the stewp back on the stove to cook, she dropped the globs of biscuit dough onto the veg in the pot, securing the lid tightly.

Hannah sat thinking of what she could possibly say to Richard and how she could make sure she didn’t make that kind of mistake again. _All I had to do was listen. Just freaking listen. That’s all, that’s the whole program._ She sighed and wondered how they’d ever make a go of it if they couldn’t have a single day without a misunderstanding.

She was poking around in the food pack when Richard slowly wandered into camp. He stood leaning against a nearby tree with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Rich I’m sorry –“

“No, Hannah I’m the one who’s sorry. It was unforgivable to speak to you like that. Hannah –“

“No, it was unforgivable to be such an insensitive know-it-all. I’m so sorry Richard!”

They stared at each other, contrition and remorse carved into their expressions.

“Well, if you think about it, this is progress. A week ago we wouldn`t have talked to each other for at least a day. This was only what, 15 minutes?” Richard said hopefully with charming big eyes and forehead crinkles.

Hannah looked at him disbelieving. Not only had they successfully apologized to each other but he also answered her doubt about their ability to get along. She jumped up and threw her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly.

“You!”

“So I guess this means I’m forgiven then?” He chuckled as his spleen was squished by her vice grip hug.

She chuckled too and gave him a bonus squish, “Only if I am.”

“As long as there are no snakes hidden in your pockets.”

She leaned and tipped her head back to look into his eyes, “Not even an inch worm.”

“Good.” He wiped her hair from her brow and traced her lips with his thumb. “Very good.” He hunched down and ghosted his lips across hers, smiling at her breathy sigh. Richard cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, relieved and excited at the way she leaned into him and welcomed his kiss. There was no hesitation or second guessing, just happiness and a world of possibilities.

Hannah was muddled by the heady rush of sensation aroused by his lips and tongue. She wasn’t fully aware that her hands had slipped under his jacket and shirt, caressing and kneading his bare back. She simply enjoyed the feeling of stroking and touching his muscles and warm skin. She felt the little tremours in him when she raked her nails down his sides and she revelled in the power to make him need her just as she needed him. She wanted all of the layers of clothing gone, nothing between them, nothing to interfere with the primal pleasure of skin against skin as they tasted and explored each other. Nothing to dull the exquisite pleasure of their bodies pressed tightly together in passionate need.

Richard pulled her closer, unable to get her close enough. His hands roamed over her body, tugging, kneading, pulling her to him. They slipped under her jacket and under her shirt – his shirt. The thought of her wearing his shirt made him moan with the Neanderthal pleasure he took from it. It should have been embarrassing to be so turned on by her wearing his shirt but he wasn’t. The only thing he wanted more than her in his clothes was to take her out of them. He wanted her soft, warm body against his; moving with him, under him, over him. He wanted to be surrounded by her, enveloped by the woman moving in his arms, welcoming his lips, hugging him close to her.

Richard pulled away and rested his forehead on hers, need and desire etched on every pore. Hannah sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them, she looked at Richard questioningly for a moment and slowly dropped to her knees. She held onto his hips and nuzzled her nose into his straining bulge, smiling as his head fell back and he moaned out loudly.

She massaged his hips, his bum and his thighs while she nuzzled and kissed him through his trousers and thrilled at the low, throaty sounds he made when his hands nested in her hair. She undid the button on his trousers and slowly, glacially slowly, she inched them down, placing kisses and warm breath on his skin as each centimetre was revealed. She sucked on his hip and he hissed, his legs trembling as he involuntarily rocked towards her.

Richard dropped to his knees and kissed her hard. He was a mess, he wanted her so much it hurt, ached, throbbed. He watched, mesmerized, as she pushed his trousers down to his knees and his whole body twitched when she tortured him with the excruciatingly slow removal of his boxer briefs. Her fingers slipped under the elastic waist band, then up, tracing along the shape of his erection through his briefs, smiling wickedly, excitedly, at him, teasing, drawing out the last seconds before she could see him, touch him, taste him, feel him. _Free me, hold me, I need you Hannah, your hands, your mouth, I need to be in you … in you … in you?_ He groaned in agony.

It felt so good and he knew she’d make him feel better still if they continued. He wanted her, not a pair of teasing hands or a delicious mouth. He knew he could make her feel as good as he did and ached to see her fall apart under his hand, under his tongue. But he wanted more than a blow job, more than hands and mouths, more than fumbling about like a couple of unprepared teenagers. _There is a time and a place for mindless shagging and this isn’t it._ He moaned, not in pleasure but in agony. Thwarted. They hadn’t any condoms and while she clearly didn’t intend for that to stop their pleasure, he didn’t want to just … get off. Well, he did but not as much as he wanted to be with her, to make love with her. He wanted to make love.

With a mournful groan he pulled her against his shoulder and stroked her hair, lightly kissing the top of her head. His forced his breathing to calm and his pulse returned to normal but the painful ache in his pants wasn’t eased in the slightest.

He dipped his head to kiss her but stopped at the look of hurt and confusion in her eyes. _Dammit,_ the thoughts screaming in his head were deafening to him but couldn’t hear them. _She doesn't understand._ “I want to, more than you could imagine … but we … you see, there aren’t any … if we … you too … I could …” He raked his hand through his hair, unable to voice the certainty he intuitively understood. Frustrated, he blurted, “I don’t want to just fuck and we don’t have any condoms and it would feel so good for you to … and I could … you know, for you … but it’s not enough. Oh fuck it, we have to wait.” His eyes squished shut and the sound of his teeth grinding together made her wince.

“Oh .... OH!! Shhhh. It’s okay. I understand now. Shhhh.” She took his face in her small hands and kissed his forehead, his brow, his eyelids. “You’re amazing.” She kissed along his temple down to the soft skin below his ear and nudged his lobe with her nose. “You’re incredible Richard.” She kissed back along his jaw and flicked her tongue once on his lips. “It will be worth it.” She sucked his bottom lip between hers and nibbled on it, making him moan. “Shhhh. We’ll wait.” She said as she clenched and unclenched her muscles, trying to douse the frustrating arousal she too was struggling against.

He grabbed her to him and crushed her lips with his own. He opened his mouth and didn’t wait for her invitation to thrust his tongue between her lips; seeking, twirling, flicking, sucking and claiming her. Part of him screamed ‘ _to hell with condoms, just this one time_ ’ and he very nearly gave in. With a frustrated cry he pushed her away from him, “Dammit, woman! Are you trying to kill me?”

“No?” She was dazed and stared at his lips, wondering why they were no longer on hers, the drizzling rain doing nothing to dampen her ardour.

Richard stood and pulled her to her feet. With a smack on her bum he said, “Supper must be ready by now … and it’s the only thing either of us are going to eat tonight.” He did up his trousers trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably.

She snorted and it broke her sexually charged trance. “You’re just plain cruel, Armitage!”

“Oh you have no idea. Now,” he beat his chest, “get me my supper, woman.”

She elbowed him in the stomach and laughed, “Yeah, don’t pull that chauvinist shit with me, you big giant dork.” She stood up on wobbly legs and wondered if he’d notice if she took off to the meadow for a minute or two. She stared at his back as he walked in front of her, awkwardly stepping and adjusting his pants.   _Ha!  Good for him.  He better be as frustrated as I am! Stopping like that could kill a girl!_

They ate their hodge-podge dinner with Hannah forcing random bits of food on him, each one announced with the command, “Eat it. We’re not packing it out.” He was relatively certain she was trying to see what it took to make him beg for mercy, and she very nearly won.  

Cleaning up from dinner was more thorough than other nights, ensuring everything was tucked away properly for packing the canoe the following morning. It made things easier to concentrate on mundane tasks like cleaning and packing. The ghost of their thwarted need hung between them, reminding them of what almost was. Knowing smiles and smouldering stares prompted nervous laughter and a bonding experience of ‘misery loves company’. Heaped on top of the physical frustration were complicated, conflicting emotions.

Hannah felt like she was in an emotional anti-gravity tank, unable to find solid ground or to know how to feel. She was sad at leaving but excited about all that the weekend would hold. She was disappointed that it was still too misty to sit on the rocks or go out in the canoe for their last night but she couldn’t wait to fall asleep snuggled in his arms. Every thought, every emotion was on shifting sand.

Richard fared much better than Hannah. His confidence and anticipation for life outside the park was strong enough to temper the disappointment of leaving. His body responded with particular enthusiasm when he considered their upcoming weekend in Toronto and he suspected that they would have many canoe trips in their future. _It’s so much easier to say goodbye to people and places when you know that it’s only a temporary parting. Only a few days._

They did a thorough cleanup of the area around their campsite, ensuring they’d leave little trace of their presence when they left. Breakfast fixings were easy to access for a quick, hot meal to begin their trip and everything else was in good order. The tent would be wet when they took it down, but it was easy enough to air out and dry once they got back to AO.

Hannah finished brushing her teeth and climbed into the tent, smiling at the thought of big, strong arms wrapped around her all night long. As she zipped up the door, she watched Richard fiddling with their sleeping bags.

“Whatchya doin’?” She asked.

He looked up at her with a boyish grin, “Oh, nothing really. Just thought I’d zip our sleeping bags together.”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up, “Do you think that’s wise? I mean – “

“Oh I know, it’s a risk. But I trust that you’ll be able to control yourself after all. I believe in you where millions wouldn’t.” He teased.

“ME?” She squeaked. “I’m not the one who wakes up with ginormous boners!”

“And thank heavens for that!” He smirked.

“Seriously Rich, do you really think we should be … you know … THAT close?” She chewed on her lip.

“Are you randy baby? Are you randy?” He teased in his best Austin Powers impression.

“Perpetually, apparently.” She crossed her arms and knit her brows together.

He sighed, “Oh alright. Let’s make a pact. No touching the other person’s bathing suit areas.” He grinned at her sceptical expression, “Or our own.”

Hannah’s eyes widened at that.

“That last bit was added for your benefit as we both know how –“

“Whatever! Okay … if you’re sure about this.” She toed off her Tevas and pulled her anorak over her head.

Richard hissed when her shirt, his shirt, got caught up in her jacket and came partially off with it, exposing her midriff and the underside curve of her breasts before she noticed and pulled it back down.

Hannah chuckled at the heat in his eyes and mirrored it when he unconsciously licked his lips. “Oh this is _so_ not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Are we insane?”  She tugged off her trousers and tossed the into the corner.

“Most definitely.” He mumbled as she slipped into the sleeping bag, still wearing his shirt, and wiggled up against him.

They shared hopes and dreams and secrets, whispering in the dark while holding each other tight.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

When he realizes he doesn't have any condoms:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please don't hate me ... I'm so sorry. They were SUPPOSED to do the do ... it was going to be incredibly romantic and ... well ... smutty. They were going to make the last night in camp one to remember. It was going to be magical. Better than singing bunnies. My shock, disappointment and resignation were exactly the same as Richard's. I was gobsmacked and couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it earlier. But there were no edits which would have made sense without major revisions that would throw everything off kilter. Hannah obviously wouldn't be on any form of birth control. Richard wouldn't pack condoms for the trip with those three women. GAHHHHHH! Sexually frustrated and I'm sorry.
> 
> I'd love to hear your head canon ... what do you think about them?


	24. Into the Storm

The day broke neither bright nor early. The sky was dark and heavy, shielding the sunshine’s warmth from the world and wrapping all it touched in a depressing blanket of gloom. During the night the temperature dropped and the rain upgraded from mizzling to plothering. Inside and outside the tent the air was gelid and sodden but inside the sleeping bags it was warm and cozy, two bodies wrapped up tightly, warding off the frorish sogginess. Clearly it was the ideal day for lying down and avoiding.

With no sunlight to rouse them and the damp invading any bones foolish enough to creep out of their cocoon, they overslept. They were induced, in every way, to remain ensconced in their warm haven. Had there been an inclination to get on with the day, it was quickly squashed when Richard had to answer nature’s inconvenient call and discover the harsh, cold realities of the weather.

“Bloody hell. It’s horrible out there. Scoot over Starfish, I’m coming back to bed.” He rubbed his arms and blew on his cold fingers. He toed off his sandals and shivered as he climbed in behind her.

“Arggh, keep those icicles to yourself, Mister. No, no, no, no. Don’t you dare!” She slapped the hands crawling under her shirt to warm themselves on her belly. “Oh, yeah, this is exactly why revenge was invented. When you least expect it, EXPECT IT.”

“Oh you wouldn’t deny a dying man now would you?” He nuzzled into her hair and shimmied closer with a contented sigh.

“Pfft. Dying? No. Freezing me into oblivion? Every frickin’ day!” She groused.

He pulled his hands back and tucked them under his head. “Better?”

“No! They just got warm and you take ‘em away. Nice! Good to know I’ve served my purpose.” She teased.

“Really? Served your purpose? Seriously? You haven’t begun to serve your purpose, hehehehe.” He wiggled his hips against her.

“And … there he is. Welcome back Perverticus.” She reached up behind her and pulled his hands down to wrap them and his arms around her. “You know, we’re gonna have to get up eventually. Big day ahead.”

He snickered into her hair. “You said get up, big, a head.”

She chuckled, “How old are you? Seriously?”

“Slightly older than 12.” He sniggered.

“Ah hah. Well this,” she said as she raked her fingernails through his beard, “suggests that you might at least be legal. I’d hate to discover you’re underage.”

“No mere boy knows how to do this.” He moved over her and locked her in his gaze. She stared at his lips and sucked urgently needed air into her burning lungs when his tongue slowly licked first his lips and then hers. He pulled her closer and murmured, “We should never stop kissing.”

“So corny.” She whimpered.

He pulled back and smirked, “Are you complaining?”

“NO. Not complaining. Lips, need lips. Bring ‘em back here.” She strained to reach and kissed him back. Everything was new and familiar all at the same time. She learned the contours of his lips, the textures of his mouth and the way he moaned when she carded her fingers through his hair or sucked on his ear lobe.

Hannah felt free and curious and strong. Richard did not pull back from her sometimes tentative exploration. Instead he encouraged her, enjoyed her experimentation and was excited by her growing confidence.

He wouldn’t have considered himself a shy or modest lover. He was always concerned with his partner’s pleasure as much as his own. That concern usually included encouragement and sometimes searching for something to compliment. With Hannah he abandoned social niceties, he had no half-hearted enthusiasm for anything she did, no please and thank you, but many pleas and moans of gratitude. If it felt good, he let her know and if it didn’t, he let her know that too. He loved the humour and fun of it as much as the pure physical pleasure and he didn’t want empty praise or cossetted feelings to diminish anything between them.

Of course the downside to such honesty was that she had no hesitation in purposely doing something she knew he didn’t like as punishment for some perceived wrong. Conversely, she wasn’t above tempting him with a little move designed to give him tremours.

Every time she made the motions to get up and start the day he pulled her back down and snogged her senseless – which wasn’t hard to do because she was fairly well putty in his hands. If it weren’t for people waiting for their return, she would have gladly played his little game all day long. As it was, there were people waiting and they had a long, less than comfortable day ahead of them to get to where they were expected to be.

He was lying on top of her, propped up on his elbows and had just kissed the tip of her nose when she sighed and looked at him with a bittersweet smile.

“Hmmm. That looks serious. Can’t tempt you just a little bit longer, eh?”

“Fraid not. But look on the bright side, Friday is only a week away!” She tried to sound cheerful and optimistic as she pulled his face down so she could rub noses with him.

“Well there is that.” He said thought for a moment. “And Friday at mine does have the advantage of not freezing our arses off or raining on us whilst making tea and you won’t need to check the loo for spiders.” He pushed himself up, sitting back on his heels and pulled her up against his chest. “And the very great benefit of not needing these pesky clothes.” He said huskily has he slid his hands under her shirt and caressed her back.

Hannah groaned and arched away from him, inadvertently giving him full access to her exposed neck. He made several obscene sounds and left a trail of faint love bites all along her collar bone. He grinned evilly at the thought of her struggling to cover them up but knowing they were there. It was a new vicarious thrill for him, having always made discretion a top priority. He wasn’t willing to take out a billboard announcing he had a lady friend, but he didn’t feel the need to be secretive about it either. ‘Private, not secret’ was a brand new, welcome concept.

“Alright, alright, alright. You’re a cruel taskmaster!” Richard stood up and pulled her up fast, slamming her against him. “It’s fucking cold out here. How do you expect me to operate in THIS?” He grumbled.

“Oh whiney baby, pull up your big boy pants. It’s a little rain for Pete’s sake.” She said through gritted teeth and a grimace. If it was cold and damp in the tent, it would be that much worse outside. Lovely, just lovely. The day they needed nice weather, it was nowhere to be found.

Richard and Hannah got soaked while preparing breakfast and closing down camp. They had to load and re-load the canoe three times before they found a way to fit everything in safely. By the time it was finally ready to go, they were miserable: cold; wet; and morose at the thought that there was no relief for hours. With the weather perfectly matching their mood, it was the textbook realization of pathetic fallacy.

They paddled out the way they came; back down Burnt Island Lake, albeit with less enthusiasm than they had on their way in. They talked occasionally, without much heart, trying to use their energy and concentration on getting out of the park as quickly as possible. To add insult to injury they faced a noticeable head wind. It didn’t cause difficult waves but it wanted to push the canoe broad side and off course. Richard struggled to keep the canoe from zig zagging across the lake, using an aggressive j-stroke with each dip of the paddle.

The low sky and rain made it difficult to see far ahead and disoriented Richard. If it wasn’t for Hannah’s extensive experience, Richard was certain he would have been completely lost and the thought did nothing to lighten his mood.

By the time they reached their first portage to Baby Joe Lake they were lugubrious at best, churlish at worst. Their saturnine mood was directed at the rain, the wind, and everything in the universe, with the minor exception of each other. They each huffed resignedly when they realized the portage required two trips as Hannah suspected it would. Before they climbed back into the canoe Hannah threw her arms around him and hugged him briefly, then sighing heavily, she dropped her arms and hung her head. The portage had only been 200 metres and the thought of the half kilometre portage ahead from Baby Joe to Little Joe weighed on their minds, not knowing which was worse: paddling in the wind and rain or schlepping too much gear over muddy, shoe sucking trails.

They stopped for lunch under a thick canopy of pines and dearly wished they had hot drinks to fortify themselves with. There was no way they wanted to open up the carefully arranged packs to pull out the Whisperlite and it was obviously too wet to light a fire. The upside of their stop was that the wind had calmed and there were hints of lighter patches in the sky. _Perhaps the day will clear after all._

Their mood lightened with the weather and they were much chattier on their way down the river connecting Little Joe with Joe Lake. Even in overcast skies the area was gorgeous – deep green pines reaching up to the sky and silvery grey waters begging to be kissed by warm, sparkling sunlight. There was little birdsong but what they heard was blessed music compared to the grunts and groans they made paddling against the wind.

They talked about their families and school and favourite food and all of the silly, profound, and critical things people share to learn about each other’s lives. Hannah paused to take a few photos and even a selfie with a prominent Richard photo bomb. She grinned at the thought of including it in the album she was going to make for him.

They grumbled through the long and short portages but it was the grumble of shared camaraderie, which lessened the self-pity immeasurably. Slogging through made one of those memories like the ones that friends and family tell years later which always start with ‘remember that time ….’

“Around that bend is Arowhon. We can pull out there if you like” Hannah pointed her paddle ahead and to the left and was glad he couldn’t see her face at saying ‘pull out’. Hannah was beginning to think his perverticus affliction was rubbing off on her which made her smirk again at ‘rubbing off’.

Richard thought about it for a moment. “Shouldn’t we go back the way we came? Our cars are at Canoe Lake …” What he wanted was for their trip not to end a minute earlier than it had to. _There’s only a couple of hours left, no sense reducing it to a few minutes._ “We should continue on. It’s not so bad now, eh? I mean, I can’t remember ever wanting a hot shower more, but I think I can sort of bear it enough to finish this thing right.”

Hannah wondered if he’d lost his mind. She wanted warm, dry clothes and a cup of coffee or chocolate or a hot toddy or anything else that was above 100 degrees. On the other hand, being soggy and chilled _with_ him was better than being warm and dry _without_ him. At least it wasn’t blowing or raining any more. “Sure, let’s do it. Whodathunkit? You’re actually choosing to spend time on the water when you have a legitimate out. Would you have done that 10 days ago?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Ah, the answer to that would be No. See what you’ve done? You’ve addled my brains, woman!”

“Yes!” She fist pumped the air and almost dropped her paddle in the water, “My work here is done.” She laughed.

They teased and talked all the way down Joe Lake, waving to The Pines as they paddled by. Hannah looked at it longingly for a moment, images of steamy hot showers with a steamy hot man to scrub her back made her fight to put all it out of her mind

With the last portage complete they were finally in the neck of Canoe Lake. Less than two hours and they’d be on dry land and not a moment too soon because their respite from bad weather didn’t look like it was going to hold out indefinitely. Bilious clouds were slowly gathering and the breeze had picked up again, more an annoyance than anything.

Conversation waned as the need to concentrate on tracking and paddling required more energy. Lunch and the respite from cold wind restored their reserves but the gradual increase in inclement weather threatened to deplete them once more. No matter how often she trekked through the wilderness there was always a special brand of fatigue which settled upon her shoulders as she neared the finish line. _This stupid finish line looks like it’s constantly shifting._

Paddling hard didn’t diminish Hannah’s fantasies of hot showers, a soft bed and snuggly pillows. _Oh, to use a microwave again; that will be pure bliss. And to turn on a tap for water – HOT water – mmmm, pure decadence._ Thinking about her bathtub and toilet almost brought tears to her eyes and she sighed happily, knowing they were within reach … eventually.

Richard was strong of mind and body; he should be after all the effort he put into training both. But he was tired and began to doubt the wisdom of continuing on through Canoe Lake instead of bailing at Arowhon Pines. _It’s not like the last hour has been very social anyway, we might as well have ended the trip earlier. Had we done so, we would be showered, changed and maybe even sitting down to a hot meal at this very moment. It wasn’t so bad before the damn wind picked up again, we could talk and laugh and the paddling was easier, he sighed._ But all that was a thing of the past, paddling was hard work and neither of them had the stuffing to talk much.

If wind was a factor on the lake the worst area was usually the open expanse between Joe Lake and the three bigger islands in the middle, Gilmour, Wapomeo and Cook Islands. The lake was at its widest there and even the smallest breeze could whip up waves if it came from the right direction. Of course, with their luck the wind had to come from the north west and do just that. The waves weren’t enough to make them get off the lake but they lapped at the sides of the canoe and make tracking a constant and never ending challenge.

They were protected while paddling between Cook and Gilmour islands and succumbed to a false sense of relief. Once they cleared Gilmour Island the wind had picked up and was buffeting them, making paddling decidedly unpleasant. The swells may only have been a foot or so but that meant two to two and a half feet from trough to crest, not dangerous but certainly not comfortable.

Hannah figured that the last two kilometres with that wind were going to be harsh no matter what she decided to do but safety, not convenience, was more important. They could go back and pull out onto Wapomeo Island, go to the shore, or continue on their path.

“Hey, Richard, let’s go closer to shore. If this gets any worse, we’ll have to get off the lake and wait it out.” She said over her shoulder to him.

Richard remembered the convoluted shoreline and groaned, it would add a lot to their remaining distance, probably more than double it if they followed the shoreline. “Aye aye Captain.” He said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

The wind tapered off and Hannah reconsidered her decision to go to shore. They paddled well in the dead calm and were in the middle of the lake when she heard the first crack.

“What was that? A gunshot? I thought guns were illegal in Canada.” Richard asked.

Hannah looked around and gasped. Directly behind them was an advancing bank of ominously dark clouds. Fear gripped and squeezed her heart when she saw the source of the sound: lightning, and it was coming towards them.

“STOP.” Hannah shouted. She had to think. She couldn’t tell which shoreline was closest, they looked equidistant and that was bad news. The last place anyone wanted to be in an electrical storm was on a lake. She focused on the promontory jutting out from the little bay where the Portage Store was located. “Follow my paddle, see that point?” She said.

“Yeah. What’s wrong?” Richard’s brow furrowed at the sudden stress he heard in her voice.

“There’s a storm coming up behind us and we just have to get off the lake quickly. Head for that point. The wind is going to pick up any time and we’re going to have to paddle harder than you ever thought possible. Now’s the time to ask questions if you have any because we might not be able to talk in a few minutes.” She said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. She wanted him to know the situation was serious, but not make him panic.

“Hannah, how bad is it?” His eyes darted to the waves on both sides, in front and behind them. His voice was low and so strained she knew he was fighting to maintain control.

“It’s pretty serious. But we’re a good team and we know what to do, right?” She reassured him as much as possible.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, let’s do this.” He took a deep breath and dug his paddle in, deep and strong.

The calm before the storm didn’t last as long as she’d hoped. The wind came back with a vengeance and quickly whipped the waves into white caps. Within minutes the rain started to fall, great fat drops at first; splatting against their faces and painting their anoraks in dark splotches. The sky deepened to a sickly greenish slate grey and the cracks thundered louder and closer as each minute passed.

The rain sheeted against them, millions of small drops pelting them like buckshot. The waves slapped and pushed the canoe every which way making it nearly impossible for Richard to track even as much as a reasonable zig zag. He swallowed down the fear that they would never get off the lake and that they’d either be killed by lightning or swamped by the waves which were breaking over the gunwales.

His head was buzzing with adrenalin creating a surreal ‘this can’t be happening to me’ feeling which made him want to laugh hysterically. The copper taste of fear flooded his mouth and coated every nerve in an unpleasant frizzle. The rain stung his face and hands, a billion needles torturing every inch of exposed skin without mercy. Part of him wanted to jump out of the canoe which he thought would surely drag him down to the bottom of the lake to join Tom. But being in the water with two foot swells, even with a life jacket, was no place for him. He paddled hard enough to make the muscles in his shoulders scream in protest.

Hannah fought the urge to cry. She was angry and frustrated which almost always led to tears. She was furious with herself that she had not insisted they get out at Arowhon. She knew they were tired and that the weather wasn’t great. She wanted to kick herself that they didn’t beach on Gilmour Island until the storm passed. I know better, dammit! This was the exact type of idiocy which killed the boys all those years ago on Lake Temiskaming. Richard had put his trust in her and she let him down, endangering his life. It wouldn’t matter that the weather looked to be clearing or that they felt good after lunch if they were dead. _I fucked up. Bad. But there's no time for worrying about that now._

Between the dark skies and the rain they could barely make out the shoreline. The wind spun them broadside between each stroke sending frissons of fear through Richard as the waves crashed over the gunwales. If he could keep the canoe straight they rode the crests and troughs like a see-saw but the lake didn’t dump as much water into their canoe. He worried that if the waves didn’t swamp them and the lightning didn’t fry them that they might sink anyway from the sheer weight of water in the canoe, unable as they were to bale.

The wind had pushed them too far off course. They were headed towards the Portage Store which meant another half kilometre on the water. Hannah didn’t know whether to be relieved or more scared. The promontory was uneven rocks and she couldn’t imagine how they’d safely beach with the waves shoving them this way and that. Landing by the Portage Store meant soft sand, if they could make it. They just had to avoid lightning and capsizing for a while longer.

Hannah saw a brilliant, jagged flash from the corner of her eye and swore out loud, her words punctuated by a deafening boom of thunder. She felt the power of the bolt’s charge tingle throughout her, goose pimples and static covering every inch of her skin. It was so close, near to over taking them. She prayed for forgiveness of all sins and forgave those who had sinned against her. She tried to focus her mind and body on getting them off the water by paddling with everything she had, unsure if they would make land alive.

The wind and waves and thunder and lightning created a surreal pocket around them. The smell of ozone singed their noses and they blanked out to everything except their paddles pulling through the water. An ethereal peace settled on them, clearing focusing their thoughts and pushing fear to the farthest corners of their minds. Hannah and Richard paddled with the precision and strength of an Olympic team, not missing a beat or synchronized stroke.

In the final 250 metres Hannah regained conscious thought and was, for the first time in over an hour, beginning to believe that they would get off the lake safely. They sprinted the final stretch and whooped as they came within less than 2 canoe lengths of shore. The wind and waves pushed them onto the sand with such force they couldn’t follow normal beaching methods and heard the sickening crunch of heavily laden canoe dragging over sand. They hopped out as if it was on fire and stood staring at each other.

Richard was pale and his eyes glassy. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out; he lifted his hands but they just fell limply down to his sides. Hannah slowly walked over to him and stopped a couple feet away, lifting up her arms. He took the final steps and bent down to reach for her. She drew him into her waiting arms and held on for dear life as their bodies trembled in shock and relief.

“We’ll pick up your stuff and you’ll come back to my place?” She whispered in his ear.

He nodded and hugged her tighter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say write what you know ... not sure if that's always a good idea but in this case, I hope I did it justice. Hubby and I had this canoeing experience: cold, wet, hungry, exhausted, and chased across the lake by an electrical storm with 18" swells making paddling impossible and a shoreline of craggy rocks making beaching impossible. The fear was greater than anything I've ever known but the benefit of it was that we had a determination and focus which eliminated everything other than trying to get to shore. When we pulled out at The Portage Store on Canoe Lake, we collapsed in the sand and our laughter had a distinctly hysterical quality to it. Once we got the canoe safely secured to the top of the van and climbed in, we stopped for a moment and looked at each other. I asked him "wanna go again?" to which he laughed and said "hell yeah". And we did, several times before kids came along.


	25. Smells Like Lilacs

Wordlessly, Richard and Hannah unpacked the canoe and loaded everything into her car. Hannah’s hands stopped shaking (mostly) by the time they pulled the last knots securing the canoe to the roof but she was like a robot as she checked in with the Park station in the Portage Store.  She was silent, her white knuckles gripping the steering wheel and her mouth was a grim line for the short drive to Arowhon Pines.  When they arrived, the manager was busy with another guest, forcing them to wait, restless and jittery.  Hannah excused herself to use the washroom while Richard leaned against the wall, surreptitiously sniffing his pits and hoping he didn’t smell too ripe in a confined space.  He scoffed at himself, " _like body odour is worth worrying about."_

He was still waiting for the manager when Hannah left the washroom, so she decided to take a minute to catch her breath. She walked out onto the covered deck and grabbed onto the railing. _This is where we should have left the lakes. This is where I should have insisted we end our trip. If we’d come ashore here, I’d never have put Richard’s life at risk. He could have ..._

Her mind spiraled and swirled with the possibilities of what could have happened, what very nearly did happen, out on Canoe Lake. She gripped the railing hard enough to press the pattern of the wood grain into her skin.  Tears streamed down her cheeks when she felt strong arms surround her and pull her back against a solid body.

“Sort of lovely from this vantage point, yeah?” Richard whispered and rested his chin on top of her head, barely registering the wet drops falling onto his arm. _we're safe   we're safe   we're safe ._

“Mmm hmm.” Hannah murmured.

More drops fell onto his arm, _what the --? We’re under a sheltered porch and the rain isn’t blowing on us._ More drops fell at the same time that Hannah’s breathing hitched.

“Hey. C’mere, you.” He gently turned her around and pulled her in snugly against him, stroking her hair and making gentle susurrations in her ear. “Shhhh, it’s okay. We’re okay Hannah.”

“I nearly got you killed Rich. It’s all my fault. I am so sorry.” She sobbed. "You hate deep water and I ..."

“Shhhh. No you didn’t. We’re fine. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong Hannah. Shhhh.” He stroked her back and kissed her forehead. _Who am I trying to convince?  Her or me?_

“But it was my job to keep you safe. And that wasn’t safe.” She bunched his shirt in her hands and buried her face in his chest.

“I promise I won’t tell your boss if you won’t. You know you really must stop talking about this just being your job, you know how it bothers me. I wasn’t upset before but I might become so now, you twit.”

Hannah scowled and pulled away from him. “Don’t mock me Richard, this isn’t funny!”

“Look, if anyone should be freaked out, it’s me. I’m the one with the water phobia, remember. We’re safe and sound, no harm, no foul. And if it makes you feel any better, I’d get in a canoe with you any day of the week. I’d go back out right now if my muscles hadn’t seized up.” He held her by the shoulders and stared at her, daring her to disagree with him. _Please don't ask me to get in a canoe today. Please please please. In a couple of days maybe, but not today. I'll do it if you ask but ..._

“But, you –“

“No buts! We were out there being chased across the lake by Thor and you were as cool as a cucumber. Now we’re safe and dry and you’re talking nonsense.” He raised a brow and waited for her to acquiesce.

She started to shake and closed her eyes, “What if –“

“No 'what ifs', Hannah. We’re here. We’re fine. Gimme your keys.” He commanded. 

That took her by surprise and she pulled them out of her pocket, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Let’s sit for a bit and then we’re going to your house. I’m driving which will be your turn to put your life in my hands. Neve drove on the way up as I’m sort of not fond of this driving on the wrong side of the road business so it could be … interesting. Do you trust me, Hannah?”

“Yes?” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffled.

“Good. Now, let’s have a sit for a minute, shall we?” He led her over to a big Muskoka chair and pulled her down into his lap.   _Let's just sit here for the rest of eternity._

Hannah curled up into him and sighed. As the last traces of the adrenalin slowly disappeared, she started to shake. He held her and stroked her back, waiting for the shock to pass. It wasn’t long before she stilled and began tracing little patterns on his chest with her finger.

With a wobbly breath she spoke, “I think I’ve snotted all over your jacket.”

“Anhhh. No worries, I’ve been wiping boogies in your hair.” He cricked his head to try to see her but she buried her face into him again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Pretty freaking embarrassed though. I may never be able to look at you again.”

He chuckled. “We’ll buy you dark glasses. Or maybe I should wear a mask so you won't recognize me?”

“Yeah, a mask would be good. You’re kinda hideous anyway. Children and animals will thank me for it.”

“Thank you for that! Get up, wench and let’s go to yours. I have to pick up something first; stay here or walk with me?” He asked.

“With.” She squeaked.

They stood and she had a death grip on his hand. _Good thing it’s my left because I’d certainly not be able to write for a week if it was my right._ He stopped by the entrance to the dining room and the hostess handed him a box which he gave to Hannah to hold.

Once in the car she stared at him for a moment, “How're you doing? You wanna talk about it?”

"No." he said, quietly and firmly.

"Oh. Well if you change your mind ..."  She sniffed the box, "What's this?"

“Supper.” He grinned. “We can nuke it when we get to yours. Oh, we should go to AO and clean up the canoe and gear packs?”

“Oh, yeah I guess that’s a good idea. It’s gonna need to be aired out. Mark owes me a favour, I’ll get him to take care of it for us.” She paused and watched him carefully while she asked, “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. That’s great, I thought we’d have to unpack everything ourselves so this is quite the bonus.” He smiled.

She shouldn’t have been surprised or relieved that he was so easy going about it. _Something like that would have set Ridley off._ She cursed herself and wanted to banish all thoughts of Ridley. _Maybe freaking out makes me think of him. Pfft, that’s a no brainer. But why is Rich so damn calm after almost dying?_ “You’re pretty placid about all this. What gives?”

“Oh, I’ll have my moments, don’t you worry. And who’s to say I won’t freak out yet?” He smiled broadly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

They pulled into the parking lot of AO and worked on loosening the knots on the canoe ropes. Mark saw them and ran out to greet them.

“I can’t believe you guys came through that storm. Are you insa—“ He stopped abruptly when he saw Hannah’s pained expression. “Here, let me do that.” He tried to take over from Hannah but she swatted his hands away.

“Why don’t you get the yellow and green packs out of the back seat? Do you mind if we take off once we’ve got the stuff out of the car? Can you do the packs? Lots of airing out as you can imagine.” Hannah asked Mark.

“Oh yeah, of course, don’t think another thing about it. You look bagged out. Good thing Tara’s not here or you’d have a rough time getting away so quickly. She’d want every detail of your trip” Mark said.

“Why? Where’s Tara?”

“She’s down in Toronto visiting Neve, I think.” It was out before he could think twice but Mark didn’t want to talk about it and hoped she wouldn’t ask.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll have to pop in and visit her on the weekend.” Hannah said absentmindedly.

“YOU are going to Toronto?” Mark was amused.

“What? I go to Toronto!” She groused.

“Yeah, once a year whether you want to or not.” He teased. He looked to Richard and wondered if maybe Hannah had a new reason to go into the city. _If so, it’s about time; girlfriend needs some serious boyfriend time._ “Listen, I’ve got this. Why don’t you two take off? You must be wiped out.”

“Thanks Mark, ‘preciate it. C’mon Hollywood, let’s make like a tree and leave.” Hannah smiled and sauntered out of the staging room. She slumped into the passenger seat and closed her eyes.

Richard got in and started the car. “We can come back for my car later, yeah? Don’t know where you live. I kind of need your help, Hannah.”

“Turn right on the road and keep going for about 15 minutes.” Hannah said without opening her eyes. “Let me know when we pass The Navigation Company Restaurant. It’ll be on your right. Can’t miss it.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Richard spoke up. “That was all for Mark’s benefit, hmm? Back there, you acted like nothing in the world was wrong and now you’ve crashed again.”

“Did I? Oh.”

“Other than you being in a bad way, I think I might be chuffed.”

She sat up and stared at him, “What? Are you insane? Did you take in too much rain or lake or something?”

“Might have. You put on a brave face for Mark but not for me. You’re just yourself with me. I’m honoured.” He winked at her.

“Hmmmph. A bit full of ourselves, are we? Thinking you’re something kinda special, huh?”

“I’m beginning to think so, yes.” He squeezed her knee and smiled warmly, this time the smile did reach his eyes.   _She can laugh, oh thank goodness she can still laugh._

“Hey, eyes on the road Mario Andretti!” She chastised him and smiled back just as warmly. Hannah sank into her seat, willing the tension to trickle away. It was an odd feeling to be sitting in the passenger side of her own car but it was a blessing to have Richard drive, despite his claims of inadequacy on North American roads.

They arrived at Hannah’s bungalow and she watched him closely. How he reacted to her home was important in a way she’d not considered before. His face was passive which made her nervous.

“The lawn needs to be mowed. Shoulda arranged to have it done while we were on the lake.” She mumbled, disappointed and apologetic.

“Don’t be silly. It’s perfect! If it needs mowing, I could do. Tomorrow maybe, if you think it might wait.” He offered and was slightly concerned with her stymied expression.

“Yah, that’d be great. Really great. Thank you.” She said, mystified. _Who is this man offering to mow my lawn?_ Then she snickered because he offered to ‘mow her lawn’.

“Wot? What’s so funny about that?” He asked, trying to figure out what he missed.

“Oh nuthin’. Let’s get inside, there’s going to be another deluge any minute.”

Richard groaned, he’d be just as pleased to not get caught in the rain ever again. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.” He lifted her pack and his suitcase out of the car and waved her away when she moved to carry the heavy gear. “I’ll get these, you get the doors.”

She smiled at his macho bravado and let him have his moment without argument. She grabbed the box with their dinners and opened up the house, holding the door for him. “around the corner, down the hall and the last room on the left.”

He dropped the packs in what looked like a guest room; it was too tidy and didn’t have evidence of daily life to be hers. He sighed, disappointed that he hadn’t been directed to her room.

Walking back down the hall he peeked in an open door to find the tiny bathroom which looked like a palatial suite compared to bathing in a bucket and using a slammer. He groaned with longing at the thought of hot water rinsing suds from his hair and washing away the aches and pains of the day.

He followed sounds to find her pouring water in the top of a coffee maker. It was an odd choice as the first thing to do, but coffee affected each differently. She turned and smiled at his expression.

“It’s a pour-over and I’m just getting it ready for later. Dinner or shower first?”

“Shower, I think. Will you be joining me?” He wiggled his eye brows at her.

“Ahhhhh no. Tempting as you are, no. Today’s not my idea of the grand romantic event.” She sighed and shook her head. “And … I don’t have any condoms.” She added cheekily.

He laughed, and gave her a hug. “Yeah, there is that. So, I’ll shower first, shall I?”

“Okay. I’ll set out towels for you. And if you toss out your dirty clothes I’ll throw them in the washer.”

“Isn’t this just the picture of domesticity? We haven’t even had a proper date and you’re doing my laundry? I think I like the way this is going.”

She groaned and threw a washcloth at him, “Yeah, and you can get any nineteenth century ideas of the little woman right out of your head. Now go wash the stink off.”

Richard thought he might have used up all the hot water for how long he stood in the steamy paradise. He didn’t care for lilac or lily of the valley body wash, which was all Hannah had, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and clean with flowers was better than grubby without. One final rinse and the last verse of _Down By the Old Mill Stream_ , and he was done. He towelled off his hair and wondered how they would cut it for Tom, with the pictures he saw he didn’t think it would be very short, probably wouldn’t dye it either, which would be a relief.

He tied the towel around his waist and strolled down the hall to the guest room where he left his suitcase. The pack was gone as were his dirty togs which made him smile. _I can’t believe I didn’t get decapitated for the laundry comment._ Humming _Danny Boy_ to himself he opened his suitcase and pulled out a t shirt and exercise trousers. He was still disappointed to be relegated to the guest room, especially after their last few nights in the tent, and the overwhelming need to hold on tight and not let go,  but he guessed he could understand. He found his journals and the script and set them on the nightstand, ready for a review before sleep.

He padded back down the hall and found Hannah checking her voicemail, rolling eyes, taking notes, a bit of cursing at telemarketers and a couple of yadda-yadda-yaddas. She looked up to find him leaning against the kitchen door frame with his arms and ankles crossed. Her eyes went big and her chin dropped for a fraction of a second before she regained her composure. He chuckled and wondered how exactly she could have such a reaction to a sad sack in gym trousers, a faded t shirt and who smelled girly.

She held up her index finger and he nodded. With a relieved huff she hit ‘end’ on the phone and, looked up with a smile, “All done? My turn. There’s wine on the counter or whisky in the cupboard with the glass door. Help yourself. Back in a few.” She patted his arm on the way by.

He walked over to the whisky cupboard and was pleasantly surprised. _She has some seriously great whisky!_ He poured a couple of fingers of Balvenie Doublewood and sighed with his first taste, savouring the smoky flavours as its welcome warmth spread through him. For the first time since he entered her home, he took a minute to really look around.

It was a mish-mash with no discernable style or intention. The only trend, if it could be called that, was a collection of Scottish items. There were bits of tartan, a mounted sporran, photos he recognized of Glencoe, Edinburgh Castle and one which looked like it might be the Hebrides. There were lots of other framed photos sitting in the corner; gorgeous stills, portraits, landscapes, and even animals. He flipped through them a second time, looking closer at the details and he could see how she’d won the New Yorker’s contest. He was examining a photo of the boat house in Central Park when Hannah came into the living room, towelling her hair.

“Oh, you don’t need to look at those old things.” She said, a lump forming in her throat. She left the room and poured herself a short Balvenie, neat. Her teeth were grinding as she slipped the oven mitts on and pulled the tray with their dinners out of the oven.

 _Oh, he didn’t criticize the house or my photos but he’s not that kind of guy anyway so I shouldn’t be surprised._ Looking at her photographs though, that was not good, not good at all. She didn’t know if she wanted him to like them or hate them; neither were good options. _Dammit, why did I unpack them? They’ve been neatly stored away in a big old nondescript box for nearly three years where he’d never have seen them._ She didn’t want to have a conversation about her photos … or about anything.

She placed the chicken pot pies on plates, mounding a green salad and dinner roll beside them. “Dinner’s ready.” She set them down on the kitchen table and reached behind her for her whisky, thinking she probably should have had wine instead.

“Ahhhhh greens and veg. Never thought salad would be the greatest thing in the world.” He sat down and smiled at all the things he’d never known he took for granted. Sitting on a chair with a back, no bugs, no bear bags, fresh veg, the list went on and on. He looked up to tell Hannah his favourite mod con and was dismayed at the lifeless lump on the chair across from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He held her hand in his and caressed it with his thumb.

“Oh, ‘s nuthin. I’ll be fine in a second.” She gave him a wan smile.

He looked at her for a minute and took a deep breath. “This is your meadow, hmm?”

“What? No.” She gasped and then she sighed. “Well,… kinda … “

“And I’m in the middle of it, ruining the peace and quiet so you can’t catch your breath.” He sighed too. He bloody knew she needed time alone when she was stressed and there he was, invading her space. “When dinner’s finished I’ll go back to Arowhon, yeah?”

“NO!” Her eyes flew wide as she shouted. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s just that I almost got us killed today and you’re being too nice about it and you’re here in my house which is good but I wasn’t ready for company and I might have forgotten a pair of dirty socks or something and you smell like lilacs and I’ve never had a man here before and a week ago I don’t think I even liked you very much and then I took a guy afraid of water through a storm and now you’re in my kitchen and we’re laughing about having sex next weekend and you saw my pictures and I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t talk like this ever and it’s scaring the shit out of me and –“

He got up and stood in front of her, extending his arms, “May I?”

Hannah nodded and he pulled her in, wrapping her up in his arms, securing her against his chest and gently stroking her damp hair. “What do you need?” He whispered.

She looked up at him, confused. No one had ever asked her that. Ridley always told her what she needed, what _he_ thought she should do. Ridley took care of her, he took care of everything. He was kind and generous but he did far more telling than asking. In the end, the telling wasn’t quite so kind and she knew he didn’t always have her best interests at heart. _Too much, this day is just too much. Too wet; too cold; too terrifying; too exhausting; too much time with another person too close; too much stress in my own house; too much weird kindness. I need to be alone._

“I know I just had a shower … but … would you mind if I took a bath?” She sighed. “I might be a while.”

He kissed the top of her head, “Of course not. I could never mind. Um, before you go could you draw a map for me, I might like to go to the market or maybe a chemist.”

“Grocery store? What do want a grocery store for?” She asked.

He chuckled, “Apparently, I smell like lilacs which is decidedly far too unmanly and we could probably use a little something for breakie.”

She felt butterflies in her heart, “You’re just making up excuses to give me some alone time.”

“No, no excuses. You don’t need excuses for meadow time, and I don’t need excuses to respect it. Silly woman.” He gave her a little squeeze. Truth be told, he wasn’t quite the altruistic hero she thought him; _I wouldn’t half love being on my own for a bit._ Her time out gave him one as well and he rather appreciated it. “I … ah … really don’t mind your meadow time.”

She chuckled, “Oh good lord we’re doomed. We both need space? Aren’t we a pair?!”

“Yeh, we might be so.” He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her gently. “Maybe it gives us a leg up, yeah? No need to explain, simply understand when the other needs it?”

Hannah snuggled in and hugged him closer. “Good point.” She pulled back to look at him for a second and then resumed her spot on his chest. “I guess you never have given me grief over taking meadow time. You do get it, dontchya?”

“Mmm hmm. And you do for me too.” He smiled and rested his chin on her head. It was a rare thing to have this part of him innately understood and he suspected it was the same for Hannah. “Okay, dinner then you have a bath and I go for drive, hmmm?”

With a quick squeeze, “Sounds like a plan, Stan.” Such a simple thing had a profound effect on Hannah. She liked the term ‘meadow time’, it was a great description of what it meant to her: a time to rest, relax, and recharge. It wasn’t running away or a punishment, it was a restorative and Richard understood it. No one had ever understood that about her and she was a little gobsmacked by it.

They finished their dinner, most of it in comfortable silence with feet touching under the table; little connections of big importance. Richard gathered up their dishes, taking them to the sink.

“I’ll do the washing up, you draw me a map. You really should take this as a compliment – I’m asking for a map and you must know it’s against the man code but I’m doing it anyway.” He grinned, big and goofy.

“Okay, Magellan.” She reached up on tiptoe to kiss him and missed his lips, planting one on his chin. “Maybe we should put a ladder on your shopping list.”

He lifted her up and twirled her around as if she was light as a feather, his strength and size dwarfing her, wrapping her up in a human security blanket and tingling her senses. She hung on tightly and laughed at the silliness of it before he set her feet back on the ground.

“You really are ginormous.” She said with a grin.

“You say that like it’s a good thing.” His eyebrows knit together and he pulled back to look at her.

“It’s a GREAT thing. I love it.” She tried to kiss him again but this time he assisted and leaned down far enough for her to reach. She kissed him soundly and sighed happily, resting her forehead on his. “Later, skater.” She let her hand drop and goosed him, laughing at his sudden ‘ _ooof’_ and jump.

The lavender Epsom salts dissolved completely in the big claw foot tub, fragrant steam rising and fogging the mirror. Hannah piled her hair up in a high messy bun and gingerly stepped into the hot bath. She hissed, it was a bit too hot for comfort and so she took her time, gradually lowering herself into the aromatic water.  Submerged up to her neck, she could feel the salts soak away all of her worries, calming her whirling mind. There were no more threats to their lives or fears, all cares were melting away and she could finally relax, fully completely.

Hannah let her thoughts drift over the unfamiliar territory of her feelings for Richard. When they got past his inclination to let a steel door drop over his thoughts, an inclination she understood all too well, he was magnetic. She was drawn to him despite trepidation and suspicion. On paper he was not appealing in the least. He was big; stubborn; opinionated; commanding; and could be dangerously single minded. _Did I learn nothing with Ridley?_ She didn’t want to go within ten miles of another controlling man; she’d barely recovered from the last one.

 _But that’s not fair._ Richard was nothing like Ridley and all of those things which were negatives on paper had another side to them. His stubborn, single mindedness and his opinions were tempered by his self-awareness and empathy and he had shown no hint of forcing his thoughts or ways on her. He disagreed with her but didn’t patronize, discount or otherwise boss her around. He could certainly be intimidating but he had been a shield rather than warrior. His confidence meant he had no need to control or convince others of his worth.

She snorted at the way her heart and mind were colluding to put him in the best possible light. She’d known him for less than two weeks and anyone could be sweet or charming for two weeks. _If my damn hormones didn’t spike off the chart every time he comes near I most certainly wouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts._ She wanted, no she needed, to slow things down but at the same time every particle of her craved to be held in those big strong arms.

 _Mmmm, those arms._ She closed her eyes and let the water take her away to gauzy islands of imagination, her mind drifting on a sea of tranquility with only Richard by her side. She could see it … feel it. Leaning back against his solid body, his arms around her, protecting, holding, seizing, claiming her. She could feel the rasp of his stubble as it scraped along her cheek, down, down until his firm lips found the soft pulse on her neck. Kissing, nipping her and whispering unintelligible words in his deep, rich timbre. Her hand rose to rub her collar bone where he’d left traces of his adventures that very morning.

She wanted to feel his mouth on her again, the insistence of his lips and tongue were heady memories. She could imagine his graceful hands tracing her face, over her lips, along her jaw; caressing and moving over her, discovering where he could inflame her most and calm her best.

Hannah imagined her own small hands were his, his touch travelling down her throat to her chest, tracing feather light swirls on the swell of her breast. Despite the heat of the bath she shivered in anticipation of his hands covering her breasts, holding, squeezing, kneading them. She moaned as his long fingers gently pinched and rolled her tender peaks. She could feel his large body beside her, sharing her bath, exploring her body, each touch an answer to prayer and a promise of more.

His fingers ghosted over the swell of her belly and across to her hips, trailing agonizingly slowly down her thigh. Her breath hitched in need to feel him on her aching, hungry core.

With butterfly flutters she traced his fingers up the inside of her thigh, teasing, coming so close to her ache but barely whispering over it before retreating. She could see his blue eyes turn stormy grey as they stared into hers, watching the effect his ministrations had on her. She could get lost in his eyes, forgetting about everything in the world except him, except his exquisite touch.

He was so disciplined, how long would he prolong her pleasure? How much would he tease? In her vision his palm cupped her as his lips descended on hers, kissing her as he touched: arousing, inciting, provoking but not yet satisfying, building her need until she wanted to scream in frustration.

His lips remained on hers and his hand continued to hold her, protectively, possessively. She needed friction, needed his rhythmic friction. His finger sought her excruciatingly sensitive flesh, circling, massaging, rubbing her into a frenzy. She could hear his low, throaty voice describe what her desire was doing to him, how much he wanted her.

His thumb replaced his finger, keeping time with it as he dipped deep inside, curling, rubbing, stroking. His mouth descended to her breast, sucking hard, nipping, laving her with his tongue. She could barely catch her breath as a second finger joined the first, scissoring and stroking within her. He rolled and pinched her swollen nub, making her shout his name. He wanted her to come undone, he commanded her to and she did, shouting his name as wave after wave of sweet pleasure washed over her. She floated on the euphoria, relaxed and happy.

She smiled when she realized there wasn’t a Harry or a Guy in sight. _No silly singing bunnies or squirrels either._ No, it was Richard, all Richard. She sighed, wondering if it was possible for him to live up to her fantasies of him. Would he know what he did to her with a smile, with the merest graze, with one dirty whisper? Would he feel the tremours? She closed her eyes and knew without a doubt that he would. It would be extraordinary. Kissing him had felled her, that mouth, those lips, his incredibly dextrous tongue lifted her to new heights. What would happen when the rest of his body was part of the fun? _Ohhhhh those hands!_

She drifted off to dreamland, images of holding and being held, weightless and safe in their joining.

..ooOOoo..

Richard was nothing if not ambitious, always had been, always would be. He identified a goal and went about achieving it, rarely did obstacles thwart him. That Hannah had become a goal was a surprise, albeit a good one. _What does Hannah being a goal even mean?_ He wanted her, that part was simple and not entirely unpredictable. He’d shocked himself when he suggested she join filming as an extra. In all of his years he’d never, ever contemplated such a thing and it was curious that he’d done so with her.

Any public interaction between them would undoubtedly be captured by someone’s cell phone and find itself on one social media outlet or another … or many … within minutes. He was blithely willing to shatter over a decade of carefully maintained privacy for someone he’d known less than a fortnight. He was surprised but not anxious about it, if it meant they’d be together, they’d figure out a way to deal with it. _And anyway, it’s not like I’ll be taking out an advert in the Times. It will just be one more rumour weedling its way through the gossip mills and message boards._ He grinned at the thought that at least this time the photographic evidence would be true and not manipulated pictures or conjecture. He’d not speak of photos with the two of them publicly any more than he’d spoken of any other photos or rumours.

He thought it a bit of a mystery. He’d been surrounded by beauty, brains, and creativity for a very long time and yet it was a grubby wilderness guide who grabbed his attention as none other had for more years than he could count.

There was the air of a wounded bird about her which was not appealing in the least. He had no wish to be anyone’s hero or saviour and his life was complicated enough without having to walk on eggshells around a girlfriend. He suspected it was a cloak she was wearing, one which could be, would be cast off. There was steel and strength underneath the fragile surface. He needed someone who was confident and secure, someone who wouldn’t deflate when he roared. She’d gone toe to toe with him and hadn’t flinched; she could manage a roar or two – of his and of her own.

She’d been put off, irritated, angered and hurt by him but she hadn’t been overwhelmed or afraid. She hadn’t a sycophantic bone in her body, she’d proven that on many an occasion. There was no one in his acquaintance that he’d rather be in an emergency with. She was calm, practical and effective and fostered no panic or hysterics in others … well, in him. After their crisis her fear was because of her perceived failing’s potential impact on _him_ , not on the fact that she herself was in the exact same predicament.

He’d seen her intelligence, passion and creativity and he would dearly love to fan her embers to a blazing fire and discover who she wanted to be, where she wanted to go. _Where?_ That raised the most pressing question – _where can we be together?_ She hated New York, which he suspected was not a permanent condition but one in which he was loathe to test. He doubted she’d like London much more and he’d already heard that Toronto wasn’t a favourite either. He couldn’t imagine transplanting Tour Guide Hannah into any urban centre. That may be an insurmountable problem, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The Superstore market was the first shop on his list to come into view and with any luck, it would be his only stop. He gathered perishables and the components of a good old fashioned fry up. She’d probably complain and he doubted he could eat it all either, but it was a fun little cliché he wasn’t half pleased to do for her.

The store had a decent pharmacy and he was able to get all he needed, including a decidedly masculine shower gel. He passed by the family planning aisle and paused. _Should I or shouldn’t I?_ They agreed on next weekend, she’d reinforced that just a couple of hours ago, and she put him in the guest room – literally as well as metaphorically. He sighed, put the box of condoms back on the shelf and started to walk away. In a spontaneous about face, he turned and grabbed the box, tossing it into his basket. _What the hell, if not this weekend, then next and after all, one could never have too many._

He had to walk past the floral section to get to the cashiers and decided to stop. He picked out massive amounts of spring flowers and made a Giganticus Richardus bouquet for her, smiling at the slightly modified epithet as if she’d said it herself.

Purchases complete, he reversed her directions and began the 20 minute drive back to hers. He wouldn’t let hurdles or uncertainty deter him, he was excited about where things might lead. She shared something with him which no one else ever had: the need for bits of isolation to regroup and cast off the stresses of the day. They ‘got’ each other in that respect and it was worth more than gold to him. _Where we live, what she does for work, her aversion to cities, the shit-storm in the fandom when she is discovered? These are just details we’ll get sorted together. One step at a time._

He focused on the more immediate issues before them, visiting in Toronto, sex, how long they’d been acquainted, all those sorts of things. He was so deep in thought he passed her road and didn’t realize it until he saw the sign for AO. _Shit!_ He pulled a U turn and thought she’d take the piss when, or if, he told her about almost getting lost. _What is it with me and getting lost? Stupid memes._

He held onto the grocery bag with his teeth and opened the door, pushing it wide with his foot.

“Hello, Mrs. Premise?” He said in his best Monty Python voice.

She leaned her head over the back of the chesterfield to look at him upside down, “Hello Mrs. Conclusion. Busy day?”

“Busy! I've just spent four hours burying the cat.”

“Four hours to bury a cat?”

“Yes! It wouldn't keep still, wriggling about, howling.”

“Oh - it wasn't dead then?”

“No, no, but it's not at all a well cat so as we were going away for a fortnight, I thought I'd better bury it just to be on the safe side.”

“Quite right. You don't want to come back from Sorento to a dead cat. It'd be so anticlimactic. Yes, kill it now, that's what I say.”

“Yes.” He laughed out loud and wondered where she’d been all his life. “Good bath?”

“Mmm hmm. Good drive?”

“Very. Be right back, there’s a bit more to bring in.”

Hannah went with him to the car and gasped, “What did you do? Buy out the whole Loblaws Superstore chain?”

“A bit much?” He asked, looking a little like a schoolboy who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“No, not at all. Not if you’re planning on feeding the entire Canadian Armed Forces. Good grief, where are we going to put all this food?”

He grinned and patted his stomach. He nodded at the bags, “You don’t have to help, I’ve got this.”

“Pfffft. I’m here, I can carry a few grocery bags.” She took four off the seat and shook her head the whole way into the house. She set them down on the kitchen floor and stood with her hands on her hips, thinking about cupboard and fridge space. Picking up one of the bags the handle broke and the contents spilled onto the floor.

It was primarily men’s grooming products which made her smile. She kinda liked him smelling like lilacs but with a whiff of the Old Spice shower gel he’d chosen, she decided she’d like that on him much, much better. After her bath she thought she’d like him best with nothing on at all. She bent to pick up a box and stared, gaping.

“Here’s the last of the -- oh.” He said as he walked into the kitchen.

“Umm?” She held up the box and looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

“Oh. Yeah. No. I … ah … you know … next week maybe … just in case there’s no chemist near my flat … you know … I didn’t mean … oh shit, sorry, you weren’t meant to see those … unless you wanted to and we could … no, sorry. Sorry.” He turned pink and looked like he wished the ground would open up to swallow him whole.

Hannah set the box down on the counter and threw herself at him, arms clenching him in a fierce bear hug. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, my finest quality apparently.” He hugged back and heaved a sigh of relief that she didn’t think him a total wanker.

She walked them backwards to get to the counter and picked up the box, examining it closer. “Hmmm. Probably not one of your better purchases.” She said grimly.

“What? Why?” He worried, _what did that mean?_

“There’s only 12. You shoulda bought the bigger box. This won’t be enough.” She laughed at him and head butted his chest.

“Well, for a lesser man 12 might not be enough. But darling, each time with me will leave you incoherent for hours.” He bumped his hips to add emphasis. “And you know, there’s more to me than just what needs condoms.” He flicked his tongue like a snake and did jazz hands while wiggling his eyebrows.

She recovered quickly from her gasp and laughed so hard she had to lean on him. “Giganticus Perverticus, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I aim to please.” He chuckled and spun her around several times before pulling her back into him and rocking back and forth, waltzing to inaudible music.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” She rested her head on his chest and felt more at home than she had for … well … for years.

They put the groceries away with many protests, groans and exclamations from Hannah. He just shook his head, letting her complaints and taunting insults roll off his back. She poured two glasses of wine and motioned to the living room. She walked in ahead of him and he noticed her nightshirt for the first time, lilac with owls all over it. He was still looking at it, smiling when she sat and saw him staring.

“Ahhh, yeah. I should warn you. I don’t own any smexy lingerie. All I’ve got is cotton, flannel and one old silky thing. Sorry.” She shrugged. Ridley used to buy her the most uncomfortable and ridiculous bits of satin and lace and she vowed never to wear that crap again. She pushed Ridley out of her mind – he and his memory had their permits revoked.

“No, no. I think it’s quite charming. It could only be more so if it was bunnies.” He grinned. He couldn’t care less what she was wearing. She looked soft and glowing and warm and he had to give himself a shake. Her hair was loosely piled on top of her head with curly tendrils whisping down her neck and around her face. He wanted to pull that bun down and run his fingers through the soft mess. Another shake, _dammit_.

“So, would you like to read the script? I’ve a copy here.” He asked.

“Yeah, but not tonight. I don’t have the brain cells it would take to do it justice.” She rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine. “I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“I kinda hijacked you. Did you have plans for this weekend? Am I keeping you from commitments?” She asked.

“No, no commitments. I was just going to spend a long, lonely, sad, pathetic, lonely – did I say lonely already? – weekend all by myself. So lonely. You’ve rescued me.” He said with the air of a martyrdom narrowly avoided.

“Pffft. Somehow I doubt it. There’s nothing sad, pathetic or lonely about you.” She scoffed.

“Thank you for that. I think. No, I was just going to do some work on the script and make yet more notes. I will have to do a bit at some point. But technically I don’t have to be back in Toronto until Monday morning. So … I’m all yours until then.” He clinked glasses with her in toast to their good fortune.

They chatted and teased and sat with his arm around her shoulders, not noticing that between the two of them they’d finished the bottle of wine. Neither were very tipsy but they were relaxed and unguarded.

Hannah looked at him questioningly, "How are you doing - really?  I mean ... you now ... after today.  You wanna talk about it?"

He took a deep breath and thought for a moment.  "I'm ... okay.  I don't know if maybe I'll succumb to some sort of delayed shock - and I never want to go through that again - but I'm honestly okay."  He said, pleasantly surprised to find that he was speaking the truth.   He swirled the wine in his glass and regarded her carefully, “You know, before dinner you mentioned some things that are bothering you. Do you want to talk about them?” He asked.

She craned her head around to look up at him. _Water phobia guy is okay after nearly  dying on the lake and now this?  That’s novel, a man who wants to talk about my feelings._ He was a constant surprise and she thought she might get used to his kind of surprises. “Naw. Feel too good to talk about stressful stuff. But thanks for asking – you get bonus points for that.” She patted his arm in a classic ‘good boy’ way.

“Well, if you ever want to, I’m interested.” He said and kissed her forehead. “And I’ll collect all the points I can.”

She nodded, “Yep. Just as I suspected. You’re too good to be true. What’s up with you anyway? Are you an android or something? An alien come to conquer Earth, one weirdo at a time?” She teased and poked him, looking for wires or evidence of non-human construction.

“Yeah, that’s me. Alien Armitage.” He yawned and rested his chin on top of her head. “And that, my dear, is my cue. I am bagged out and have to go to bed.”

“Mmmm. Good idea.” She sat up and reached for their glasses, taking them to the kitchen for a quick rinse. She turned around and Richard was gone.

“Rich?” She called out.

“Yeah?” He answered.

“Where are –“ She walked down the hall and saw him pulling back the covers on the guest room bed. “Oh.” She said dejectedly.

He looked up and wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“I just thought … you … we … I guess I assumed you’d, you know …” She stammered, embarrassed. When he continued to look questioningly at her she huffed, “I thought you’d sleep with me, alright? There, I said it.”

His eyebrows shot up and he grinned, “You don’t want me to sleep in the guestroom?”

“Duh! No. C’mon ya big nut.” She held out her hand to him and he happily took it. She nodded towards the guest room, “That was just to sort through the bags for laundry.”

They walked up either side of her bed and grinned, no ‘which side of the bed’ issues there. They pulled back the covers at the same time and crawled in.

“Ohhhhhh! What is this bed made of? Kittens and clouds and baby belly button fluff? I’ve never –“ He moaned happily.

“Twit, it’s just a memory foam topper … on a memory foam mattress … and memory foam pillows.” She laughed at his orgasmic face. “It’s just a bed, you big goof.”

“You don’t understand. I’ve just spent a week with a brutal camp sergeant-major who had me sleeping on the ground – roots and rocks be damned. This feels like cotton candy and cashmere and little pillows of air. I may never get out of this bed, ever.” He wriggled and closed his eyes.”

“It’s just a bed!” She sniggered and tentatively moved over to assume their spooning position.

“C’mere wench. The only thing that makes this bed better is you in it.” He pulled her to him and wrapped her up snugly.

“G’night Giganticus Cornycus.” She smiled and kissed his forearm.

“G’night Hannah o’ my dreams.” He kissed the top of her head and was asleep in seconds.


	26. Big and Small

Hannah stretched and grinned, surprised not to have his big, burly body wrapped around her but anticipating the impending bear hug.   She rolled over and he wasn’t there either.   Frowning she looked at the clock and gasped.  _10:30?!? I slept for 11 hours?  11 hours!_   She never slept more than seven or eight at the most so she felt positively decadent.  She sat up and ruffled her hair, still dozy but for the shock of the hour.

After a quick stop in the bathroom,  she followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen.  Richard wasn’t there but a hell of a mess was.   There couldn’t have been a single pot, pan, bowl or cooking implement left in a drawer or cupboard.    _He’d better not hope that ‘he who cooks doesn’t clean’ applies in this mess, he’s not getting away scot free from this disaster zone._    She smiled and thought it high time to kiss the cook.

Richard was sitting on the couch with his back to her, a book in one hand and a pen in the other, deep in concentration.  Hannah snuck up behind him, grabbed his shoulders and shouted “Boo!”, very nearly finding herself flipped onto the floor by a fierce, ninja looking Richard. 

“Whoah, it’s just me.   Relax, Alice.”   She said with a snicker.   She should probably be scared by his intensity but instead she found it funny.  “What’s up, Chuck?   I was disappointed to wake up alone.”

“Holy fuck, Hannah.   Don’ t do that!   You scared the shit out of me.   I could have hurt you.”   He scowled at her.

“Yeh, I guess you coulda. You okay, Big Guy?" She tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress her amusement.  "That was a pretty impressive move by the way – are you a karate master or something?”  

“Yeah, I _coulda_.  And no, it’s not karate.   We did SAS hand-to-hand training for Strike Back and I quite liked it so I spar with a trainer when I have the chance.”  He shook his head. “I really could have hurt you!”

“Well that wouldn’t have been fair at all!  It’s bad enough that you’ve destroyed my kitchen, putting me in the hospital would just be a bit much, don’t you think?”   She smirked, “And what happened to my poor little kitchen?”

“Oh that, it’s nothing.   I’m just making breakfast, nothing much.”  He said, his over the top reaction quickly subsiding.

“Pffft.   Nothing much?   Baby, caterers working on the G8 Summit made less of a mess.  Are you making a special breakie for me?   Are you?   Are you being nice and sweet and adorable?”  She teased.

“Oh shut it!  I have to eat too, yeah?  And it didn’t look like you were going to wake up in this century so I experimented a bit.”  He threw back.

“Oh, no no no, I don’t think so.  You’re pulling out all the stops – I can tell.   Now, c’mere and show me what you’re doing to impress me.”  She grabbed his hand and tugged him along to the kitchen.

Richard trudged along behind her grumbling and swearing under his breath that she’d soon enough be receiving a fright that would eclipse the one she dealt.

“STOP.  Stand right there.” Hannah commanded.  She reached in between the fridge and the wall, pulling out a folding three-step ladder and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t pull a face at me, Mister.  Just you wait and see.”  She unfolded the ladder and climbed up, facing him.  She held out her arms and he walked into them, casually linking his hands together behind her back.   Hannah rested her arms on his shoulders and playfully combed her hands through his hair.

Richard sighed, “I’m too big.”

“Ah, no!  No, no, definitely no.   I love how tall you are, it’s incredibly sexy and it does this primal thing to me.   In fact, you might be a bit on the short side.   You’d be perfect if you were 2, maybe 3, inches taller.”  She sighed like a long suffering martyr. “But this is okay, I’ll settle, I’m flexible like that.”

 "You’re insane.  I’m almost, what?, a foot taller than you?”  He shook his head.

 “Well, you know, they say height doesn’t matter when you're lying down.” She said with a lecherous smirk and arched one eyebrow.

 His eyebrows knitted together, he stood regarding her for a moment.  “Aren’t you worried I’ll crush you? 

“Seriously?  Have you ever had sex before?  Do you even know how it works?”  She snickered.

“Oh shut it.  Of course I have.  It’s just that … well … I’ve only ever been with women who were … um … not to be critical … you must understand I mean no offense … well, tall … taller than ...”    He shrugged.  “I’m too big … never really been attracted to short ... shorter …”

“See that’s your problem and my good luck.  All those Amazonian goddesses were not your type at all, they were just keeping you warm for _me_.”  She wiggled her eyebrows and kissed the tip of his nose which distracted her; she loved his distinctive, masculine nose.

He held his hand up over his head and swept it down to outline his tall frame.  “Are you sure you don’t find all this a wee bit intimidating?” He looked sceptical. 

“Oh Hunny, haven’t you heard?  It’s not the size that counts, it’s what you do with it.”  She pulled him in for a hug, thoroughly enjoying being eye to eye with him.

“Well then you’re in luck, aren’t you!?  I’ve got both.”  He did an exaggerated grind against her and grinned broadly.  “And, may I remind you, that it is YOU who calls me Giganticus!”

“Ah huh.  But ego isn’t everything.”  She kissed him on the forehead.  “Now, I’m famished and I hear that there’s breakfast to be found somewhere in this mess.   What can I do to help?”

“You could make another pot of coffee.”  He paused and reached up to hold her face in his hands.  “Are you certain the bigness doesn’t bother you?”   He searched her eyes for any trace of doubt.

Hannah held his face in her hands and spoke softly, “I’m absolutely positive, Richard.  Not only does it not bother me but I really do like it.   You have an inner strength which blows me away, you’re a huge man in my mind.  It would be weird if you were short.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and back.  “If – and that’s a big if - there’s anything I don’t like, it would be when you slouch.   Bad posture will give you a bad back, ya know!  Stand tall, big fella; the taller, the better.”  She grinned and paused, “I guess I should be asking you the same question though, are you certain me being a shrimp doesn’t bother you?”

She got nervous waiting for him to answer, she hadn’t considered that it really might bother him.  She asked the question trying to make a point but his hesitation _… he’s not attracted to short women … they don’t get much shorter than me … dammit why did I ask?_   With the expression on his face it looked like she was going to have an answer she didn’t like.

“I’m worried I might hurt you.   I’m a bear sometimes and I could overwhelm you.  I can be … intimidating.”   He said in a low voice.

A cold trickle of fear ran down Hannah’s spine.   She quietly asked, “Rich, have you … have you hurt someone before?”

“What?  Hurt someone?  No.  No!   I didn’t mean like that, I could never abuse a woman Hannah.  No, that’s not what I meant.   What if I hold you too tight?   Or we’re messing around and I don’t know my own strength?”  He raked his hand through his hair, looking for the words.   “Most of the time I’m fairly docile, but when I get angry – it’s big, it’s huge.  What if it’s too much for you?  You … you haven’t always been treated properly … what if I frighten you or trigger …”  
  
“Shhhh.”  She kissed him gently, holding him tenderly.  “You can shout and bellow to me, or for me, just don’t shout _at_ me.   Don’t maliciously inflict pain and I think we’re good.   You might have noticed, but I’m not exactly a delicate northern flower.  I’m not … not stroking your ego or something, I truly do like your body – the size, shape, oooo I like the shape a lot.  I know I shouldn’t be so shallow but –“

He silenced her with a kiss.  “You’ll tell me to stop if I ever hurt you?”

“Of course.  But …”

“But what?”

She grinned mischievously, “But what if I beg you to go harder?  What if I ask you to hurt me?”

His eyebrows shot up, “You might want me to … hurt you?”

She laughed at his incredulous expression, “Probably not, but I don’t wanna rule anything out at this point.”

Richard groaned, “Good lord, do we need a safe word?”

“How about ‘ouch, that hurts’?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that could work.”  He turned serious, “Promise me that you’ll say if I’m ever … too much?”

“I promise.  You have my word.” She kissed him again and whispered, “I believe in you and I trust you Rich.”

He grabbed her by the waist and squished her to him, twirling her around until she squealed through her giggles.   “Hahaha, my evil plan is working!”  He growled and twirled her again.

“I’m calling the brute squad!” She laughed, “Oh wait, you are the brute squad.  Now, kiss me you mad man!”

He did, he kissed her soundly and didn’t stop until he felt his name moaned against his lips.

Richard made a modified fry-up, including fruit salad and Hannah’s disgusting porridge.   When they finished eating he looked around and thought they’d have enough food for three weeks. 

“Do you think this stuff will keep?”

“The bread and the meat will freeze … and I think the beans will too.  The mushrooms and tomatoes?  Not so much, but we can snack on them all day.   Thank you for doing this Rich, you’ve spoiled me!”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Does this mean you’ll do the washing up?”

“Ha!  Not on your life Mister!  I’ll help, but I ain’t doin’ it all by myself.  Just give me a few minutes to digest a bit, ‘kay?”  She leaned back in her chair and sighed dramatically.

“What are you on about?”

“Feeling fat and happy.”  She said with a big grin.

“Good lord you’re easy to please.”  

“Well now, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?!”

“Mmm, yeah.  Next weekend seems terribly far away, I think.”  He looked at her with puppy eyes and she shook her head at him.

“I’m a lot of things Armitage, but I’m not someone who jumps in the sack with some guy she’s known for less than two weeks!”  She admonished happily. “I need to know him for two weeks and a day at least!”

“Not to put too fine a point on it … but we’ve spent several nights ‘in the sack’ so technically ….”

“Pffft!”

“And, if I may add, it was you who invited me into your tent and I was going to sleep in the guest room so one might say _you_ are trying to take advantage of _me_.   I don’t know, this is all rather sketchy.  You’re clearly a woman of loose morals.”  His mind drifted to the Herculean effort it took to stop her when she had attempted to pull down his trousers the other day.

Hannah swatted him across the arm and shook her head laughing.  “Ah, yeah right.   Who zipped the sleeping bags together, eh Romeo?”

“Oh, did you object to that?  I would have sworn an oath that it was you wiggling up against me and pulling my arms around you.   How could I have misremembered so badly?  Hmm?” He said with tremendously exaggerated contrition.

“Well … okay, so you’ve got me there.”  Her face was scrunched up in an attempt to solve the world’s greatest puzzle.  “It’s kinda weird, I’ve never … I mean it’s just not … oh crap, I can’t even say it because it’s the worst cliché ever.”

He mimicked her with a terrible high pitched voice, “I’ve never done anything like this before, ever, honest, I’m a good girl.” For which he earned another swat.

“I haven’t dammit and I am!”  She laughed and he scooped his arms around her. 

“I believe you Hannah.  Millions wouldn’t, but I do.”  He spun her around so her back was to him and he criss-crossed her arms in front of her, holding them so that she was trapped against him, and hugging her tightly. “I bet you’re a _very_ good girl.”

She wriggled her head to the side of his arm so she could crane it back to look up at him.  She started to tell him exactly what she thought of his shaky faith in her when, without letting go her arms, he leaned down and kissed her.   The air between them changed, everything changed. Sense and logic – all rational thought – evaporated as pure instinct took over.

There was nothing humourous or casual about the way his lips moved against hers.  His heat and intensity branded her, his lips on hers searing.   Richard let go of Hannah’s arms, slowly turning her to face him and murmured when her breasts pressed against his chest.  He guided her arms to slip behind his neck and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.   Her moans made him tingle and sent molten need coursing through his veins.  

He stumbled to a chair, falling down heavily on the armless seat, never letting go of her.   His arms moved higher, wrapping around her, roving over her back and clutching her close to him.   He was painfully hard and the insistent twitch drove him to near madness, she was straddling him so perfectly, exactly where he needed her, where he wanted her.  He twitched again, aching in need and groaning in frustration at the layers of clothes standing in their way.

She was lost in his kiss, thought and reason having been swamped in a storm of feeling and sensation.   She hung onto him for dear life, fearing she’d be swept away at any moment.   He moaned when she flicked her tongue against his ear and whispered his name.  He grunted when she sucked on his earlobe, nibbling and soothing it, murmuring how good he felt under her, moans about the taste of him, the tang of his skin, the erotic sensation of his stubble.   She  sailed on instinct, not thinking, not aware of anything but the two of them clenched together. 

Hannah rolled her hips against him, so slowly that at first he thought he imagined it.  But she did it again, and again, increasing pressure and creating a rhythm.  He groaned out when her hand slipped down between them to cup him.   He was no trigger happy teenager but he thought he was dangerously close to losing control.    He buried his head in her neck, nipping and sucking on her, torturing himself with a moment more of her rocking against him.

He growled, “I’m not that much of a gentleman Hannah ...  you want … to wait.   I know … I can’t … baby you’ve got to stop … please sweetheart.”   In all his life he had not stopped himself when he’d willingly gone so far with a beautiful woman just as willing as he.    He gently pushed her away a few inches and groaned at the look in her eyes.

She was burning with desire, dazed from flames consuming her.   She wanted him with a ferocity which exceeded his own.  She licked her lips and he danced on a precipice – she wanted him, he wanted her.  _Why should we stop?  No good will come from stopping, only frustration and aching need.  We shouldn’t stop._   He should just relax and let her do with him as she might, which was clearly something neither of them would ever forget.  _She changed her mind, didn’t she?_   She was moving on him, touching him, urging him on like she changed her mind.  _But she said to wait when she was calm and rational, not like now when we’re anything but.  Is she thinking? Can she think?  Will she regret it in the morning?_

He groaned and rested his head on her shoulder.  This, more than his plea, broke her reverie as she looked down to see her hand massaging him through his trousers and she gasped.  She  looked at him with wild eyes, disbelieving how far she’d flown in her abandon. 

“Oh … I didn’t mean to … but … we … Oh Rich I’m so sor—“  She whined.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.  Don’t dare!” He choked out.  “If you apologize for this, I will kiss you and not stop until you are begging me for more and then, I’ll say “oh sorry” and you’ll want to kill me for suggesting there is anything sorry about this.”  He said, pointing back and forth between them.

“But … doesn’t it hurt?  ... I don’t want to hurt you.”   Her eyes were starting to focus and he could see regret slipping in.  “I’m not a tease … I …”

“You didn’t tease me, you twit.  It was me that started this and you must believe me, you have nothing to be sorry for;  I have everything to look forward to.  If we didn’t stop, you’d regret it and I won’t do that, never on purpose anyway.   As much as a proper shag might feel good right now, I don't want to be a footnote.   I want you begging me, but with a clear head, not because we got silly and carried away.”

She bit her lip and hissed when his legs shook.  “Oh … I’m crushing you … “   She tried to get up and he pulled her back down.

“You know, you may be right after all, there may be benefits to this ‘me big, you small’ thing.  I think I could bench press you with one arm.  I could definitely do leg lifts with you sitting on me.  You are not crushing me, you little faerie.”

She snorted at that and let her forehead fall on his shoulder.  “You’re kinda …”   She snickered and bit his shoulder.

“Oww.   I’m ‘kinda’ what? Irresistible?  The man of your dreams?  A sex god?”   He teased.

“All of the above?”  She scrunched her eyes shut in embarrassment.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”   He puffed up and laughed.   He hugged her tight and said, “You’re kinda, too.” And he kissed her lightly.

They sat for a few minutes, resting on each other and wondering how they were going to survive until the next weekend; wondering how they’d survive this weekend.    There was a great deal of wondering why they made the impossible rule of the next weekend and not the next second.

Kitchen cleaned, Hannah took a shower.  Thinking about the difference in her life from one month to the next made her head spin.   A month previous she was comfortable with her solitary life, a predictable routine made everything easy; one day bleeding into the next.   She used to pick at the scars of her old life from time to time, opening the wounds of her time in New York and strengthening her resolve to never allow herself to be in a position like that again.

She occasionally missed the intimacy of a relationship, but when she thought about the cost, it wasn’t worth it.  _I had terrible judgement, I only saw what I wanted to see with Ridley and sure  didn’t speak up when I didn’t agree with him.  I was way too eager to please him, to keep him happy._   She gave him ultimate power over her and she’d never do that again, not for anyone.   He took things she loved and twisted them into something unrecognizable, something she detested.   Photography and New York gave her the chills a month ago, the mere thought of them making bile rise in her throat and the shakes take hold of her limbs.  She’d never let another human being have that much control in her life.  

Taking pictures and the city weren’t the problem, it was Ridley and how she allowed the disaster of a life with him to unfold that were the problems.    She let him tell her how to live her life, what was best for her, what was best for him.  How had she done such a thing?  She wasn’t raised to be subservient; she’d never been so before Ridley, how had she done so with him?   He was gorgeous and charming and connected to interesting people.   He praised her and made her feel like a sweet angel, a delicate, feminine angel.  He had impeccable manners and treated her like a lady.  But it wasn’t really manners; it was control masquerading as manners.   When he opened a door for her, it was because he chose which door for her to go through.  When he bought flowers for her, it was because he wanted to smell roses instead of her freesia.  He chastised her in subtle ways when she disagreed with him, making her marvel that they never argued, mistaking what they were doing as getting along perfectly.

There were women in the world who wanted to be cossetted, protected, to have all the decisions, big and little, made for them.   There were women who would have preferred society and life before the 1950’s and she supported their right to want those things, to want men like Ridley.  She simply wasn’t one of them and it nearly destroyed her trying to mould herself into one.

After nearly three years she thought she’d established the pattern her life would take, permanently.  Maybe not always being a wilderness guide, but her domestic life was well developed.   It was comfortable and easy, no demands, nothing pulling her apart, nothing causing the claustrophobia and panic she felt in those last weeks with Ridley.

Things were changing, slowly, without threats to her peace of mind.It took a very long time, but she had finally made progress in separating photography from Ridley.  She was taking photos again and enjoying it, something she wouldn’t have guessed possible the year before.  She even pulled out some of her old favourites and was toying with the idea of hanging them.   She hated commercial, high society photography but she still loved capturing the randomness of life through the lens of her camera.  

She wasn’t interested in blazing a trail back to New York, but she didn’t tremble at the thought of it any longer either.   So many of her favourite places were tainted by Ridley, his subtle disapproval of this or co-opting of that … he was inextricably linked to places and  people she’d otherwise have held fast to.   She no longer felt the compulsion to vomit at the idea of stepping foot in the city _and that’s progress, isn’t it?   Maybe someday I'll go back; like when I'm 60 years or so._

The blitzkrieg was Richard.  _How the hell had that happened?_ There were so many red flags about him, why was she not kicking his ass back to Toronto?   He lived in New York, he had impeccable manners, he was stunningly gorgeous, he was imposing, she found herself doing things because she knew he’d like them.   _Bad, it’s very, very bad_

She craved him, she wanted to know every part of him and to share herself with him.  It was confusing and scary and wonderful and absolutely inescapable.   _Maybe so, but I don’t have to be a lamb led to slaughter._ She could, if she worked hard enough at it, acknowledge the pitfalls, figure out warning signs and rationalize going any further, because she hugely wanted to go further.

He could sulk like a champion which was not a point in his favour.   He could be churlish and remote, withholding himself and cutting her off.   The irony of it was that she liked that about him; not when he acted in those ways but because when he did, he didn’t try to sway her around to his way of thinking or manipulate her.   He didn’t assume he knew what was best for her and didn’t attempt to control everything.  He was strong enough, confident enough in himself, he didn’t need to subjugate her to feel stronger, better, more masculine, or whatever it was that drove Ridley to control her.

He stopped their little adventure not because he wanted to, but because she said it was something important to her.   Ridley would never have done such a thing – if she showed the slightest interest or cooperation, he plowed ahead for both of them.  Richard stopped _for her_.

Richard was much more difficult than Ridley had ever been.  She could easily imagine him shouting, glowering and thundering.   She had no doubt he could be terrifying if it suited him.  She couldn’t fathom that he would direct his fury _at_ her, it didn’t fit with what she did know of him; _unpleasant yes, fury no._   Ridley’s pleasantness was a veneer; not a fake facade but a thin version of pleasantry which covered an iron, self-centred, unbending will.

Richard had tried to brush off that his understanding and support of meadow time was for his own benefit which made her laugh.   She was pretty damn sure it wasn’t for his benefit, or if it was then it was teeny tiny.  It was the stupidest exaggeration she ever heard and she loved it him for it even though she’d have to kick his arse for doing it.

Handsome, interesting and impeccable manners were outward behaviour – what lay underneath was night and day from Ridley.  _Ridley, Ridley, Ridley._   Comparisons had to stop immediately.  There was no more room for him except in deep recesses of her memory as someone she used to know.

She towelled off and slipped into her shorts and t shirt, not sure what the day would hold and happy to go wherever it took her.  She smiled at the novelty of that feeling, freedom and flexibility … _and with a boy!_   She snickered at the thought that battery operated Mr. Purple Butterfly may find himself retired if she played her cards right – _or at least semi-retired_.

She slipped her feet into her Teva sandals and sauntered down the hall to the living room.

Richard looked up from his manuscript and smiled, “All buffed and polished?”

“Mmm hmm.  Whatchya reading?”  She leaned over his shoulder to look.

He held up the front cover for her to see, “The script.  Would you like read with?  I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story … and on Tom too.   You could decide if you’d like to be one of the extras I mentioned, yeah?”

“Sure, sounds good, as long as you won’t get into any trouble for sharing state secrets or anything.  Do you want to read in here or grab some cold drinks and go out to the yard?  I’ve got a couple of comfy loungers.”   She suggested.

“I could have you sign an NDA but I think I can trust you.”   He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, trying not to smile and spoil his very proper stern look. “I can trust you, can’t I Hannah?” 

“Probably not.  But you know where I live so if I spill any spoilers, you can come find me and take your revenge.”  She ruffled his hair and ducked as he tried to grab her arm. “Inside or outside?”

“Out, I think.   Need help with anything?”  He gathered up the script, notebook and pens.

“Tsk, I think I can handle a couple glasses of water … or do you want tea or something?  I just want to put another pot of coffee on so we can have iced lattes later.”  She added with a shrug, “I guess you can grab the chaises out of the shed if you like.”

“Iced lattes?  How fancy!  I feel proper spoilt.”  He grinned. “Water’s perfect.  I’ll get the chairs and meet you out there.”

Hannah grabbed a tray and filled it with fruit, napkins, glasses and a pitcher of ice water with lemon slices and a sprig of mint tossed in.   She looked out the kitchen window and smiled at the sight of him, his great long legs hanging off the end of the chaise.   Something caught her eye and she looked towards the shed.   Sitting up on its back legs was the largest wild bunny she’d ever seen.  Correction, the second largest; the largest was in a very naughty dream and she started laughing.  _Bunnies, always laugh at bunnies._


	27. Zombies Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday morning ...

The wicked storm of the day before cleared, leaving behind clear azure skies and a soft breeze whispering through the trees.  Birds and squirrels were back to their daytime business, chirps and squawks filling the air with their busy song.   Her little house was built on a lot carved out of the forest, providing a natural, verdant fence on three sides.  Hannah’s unstructured gardens of indigenous plants and a few hardy perennials gave her yards the feeling of a calm, northern oasis.   She loved this little plot of land on the edge of the Canadian Shield, it was her refuge, her sanctuary.

And here was someone invading her private space, obliterating all the usual feelings of placidity; instead elevating her heart rate and overwhelming her with feelings of excitement and anticipation.   _I sure don’t do things in half measures.  I’m either completely alone or jumping into the deep end of the pool. Why can’t I be like a normal person and have a nice little, unmemorable date here and there?_ As she bumped open the back door with her hip she felt older and wiser and younger and freer all at once.   She understood the dichotomy: her heart was lighter than it had been in years and she knew fully well how and why.

Some ghosts, the worst of the crippling haunters, had been exorcised and she’d be remiss if she didn’t acknowledge the motivation provided by the giant man lounging in her yard.  Oh, she’d have managed to bury Ridley’s remnants sooner or later anyway, it was simply a bonus that Richard inspired her to examine that which had gone unresolved for too long and put paid to it.

Hannah set the tray on a little table between the two chairs and plonked herself down on one. 

“So, tell me about Shorelines.  Can I read while you’re making notes?”  She poured two glasses of icy, flavoured water and took a sip from hers.

“Tell you about Shorelines?  That’s a little vague isn’t it?  Well, let’s see, once upon a time Mr. and Mrs. Thomson had a baby and named him Tom …”

“Tsk.  No!  Oh never mind, let me just read the thing.”  She held out her hand with gimme gimme fingers.

“Hmm.  Would you like me to read it to you?  Sometimes hearing a thing sheds a fresh light on it.”  He suggested.

“Oh yeah.  That sounds great.  I can sit here like a princess while you weave a fanciful tale for me.”   She wiggled in her chair and closed her eyes with a beatific smile plastered all over her face.

“Are you perfectly certain you’re not involved in the theatre?  You have quite the flair for the dramatic … or at least the diva!”  He teased.

“Only the theatre of the mind – my mind.”   She opened one eye to spy on him and fought back a smile as he rolled his eyes. “Now, let’s hear this story.” 

Richard looked at the script for a few moments and took a breath before beginning.  He spoke with flair and grace, giving each character, and the stage directions, their own voice.  Hannah was immediately mesmerized by the richness of his reading, feeling like she was in the middle of a play with each character alive and breathing the same air as she.   He paused occasionally, taking a sip of water and glancing over at her to gauge her reaction.   He was inordinately pleased with what he saw on her enraptured face, happy to continue reading if it meant she’d continue looking at him like that.

He took a brief washroom break, returning to find Hannah stretched out on his lounger with the script in her hands.   “Oh really?”

“What?  I thought I could turn pages for you.”  She said innocently.

“Ah huh.  Sure, sure you did.   Scoot over.”  He waved his hand to move her off to the side.

Loungers, strictly speaking, were not made for two.  It took some time for them to find an arrangement which was both comfortable and convenient for reading.    In the end it was a fairly normal position: Hannah lay on her side with her head nestled in Richard’s neck, one arm slung across his chest and a leg over his thigh.   His left arm was useless lying under her shoulder so they held the script together.

If he turned his head just so, he could smell her shampoo and nuzzle into the unruly mess of her hair.    He quite liked this new method of prepping for a role, it being infinitely more stimulating that sitting at a desk alone.    Richard continued reading, her reactions vibrating through him with each turn of plot.   He enjoyed voice work having narrated several audio books, revelling in the opportunity to create drama with only his voice but this, this was a completely different kettle of fish.   The immediate gratification of her response was addictive.

Richard coughed and cleared his throat a couple of times. 

“You okay?  Can I get you something soothing?   I can make a warm honey ginger tea for you?”   She lifted up on one elbow to reassure herself he was alright.

“Maybe just a little break?”  He asked.

“O’course!  Would you like the honey ginger thing anyway?”

“No thanks, I’ll be fine.   I think the doctor would say that a wee kip on a lounger with a pretty woman is all I need.”   He buzzed her forehead and took a deep breath thinking this was a moment of perfect bliss he wanted to tuck away and keep in his pocket.  “I never would have pegged you for a snuggle bunny.  You seemed polite but remote when we met.”

She wanted to snigger at his mention of bunnies, which had taken on a whole new significance to her, but instead she thought about what he meant.   “I’m not … well, I wasn’t.”  She looked up at him and buried her face in his neck with complete certainty that she was exactly where she wanted to be.   “I’m not like a cold fish or anything … but I kinda like my space and no one would ever accuse me of going overboard with pda’s.”

“PDA’s?”

“Public Displays of Affection.  You know, all the showy affectionate stuff.  Not really my cup of tea.”   She chewed on her lip and traced the edges of his stubble, raking her nails lightly against the grain.  “I know you think you’re this hulking menace and everything but you’re really not.”  She propped herself up on one elbow and continued, “You’re powerful but not threatening.  Does that make sense?”

He shook his head.

“Well … usually when people get too close for too long it feels … I don’t know how to describe it … kinda like being claustrophobic and getting trapped in a small space.   I can’t breathe and the walls close in or something.  I always need an escape route or I get so anxious it can explode into a full blown panic attack.   I haven’t felt like I need to escape from you … not even a fire drill ... yet.   But I guess meadow time has really been a godsend – and you get that.  When you hold me I don’t feel confined or restrained … just … held I guess.   That’s kinda new for me. We’re not in public … but it’s like a pda.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re going to have a panic attack?  If I do something that makes you feel trapped?”  He tilted her chin up so he could see what she was feeling with his eyes as well as hear with his ears.

“You know … I think maybe I could.”   Her eyes widened at the realisation.

“That doesn’t sound like a promise …” He said gently.

“No, but it’s more than I’ve been able to say for … I don’t know … since college … for twenty years!  Holy shit!”  She exclaimed.

Richard kissed her and pressed her head back down onto him.   He was quiet for so long Hannah got restless and began fidgeting. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

She took a deep breath and said, “I’m not broken or damaged.  This is just who I am.   Maybe it’s too much for you to deal wi—“

He grabbed her face and kissed her until her rigid body relaxed and she melted against him. 

“Dirty pool!  You’ll win every argument if that’s what I have to contend with!”   She hugged him and sighed.

“Let’s make things crystal clear.  I hadn’t known I wanted someone like you, like this.  You are more than I probably deserve … I don’t have a spotless track record with relationships … but I think – no, I know – if we don’t try, we’ll probably always regret it.   I fear you will find that it’s me who is too much for you to deal wi—“ 

She reached up to bring his face down to hers and kissed him hard until he sighed softly against her lips.

“Dirty pool!  Isn’t that what you called it?”  He kissed her again and hugged her to him, tracing little patterns on her shoulder with his finger.

Hannah fingered the chest hair peeking out from the neck of his shirt, stroking its silkiness and twirling it between her fingers.  “Are we insane?  Isn’t this nuts?  I mean, look at us!  Seriously!”

“No one’s perfect Hannah.  Everyone’s got baggage of some sort.   The key, I think, is to find someone whose baggage you can live with.  The interesting thing is to figure out what that baggage actually is.  The discovery can be quite fun, yeah?”

“Yes.  I mean no.  One is temporary, the other isn’t.  So what if all you ever do is the discovery part?  What if we spend ourselves doing that ‘getting to know you’ thing only to find out that we can’t live with each other’s baggage?  It’s not just ‘oh that was a nice learning experience, next please…’  At the end is a broken heart and shattered dreams.” 

“Are you saying you dream about me?” He said lightly.

She swatted his chest, “Stuff it, doofus.  But seriously, does it make sense to go into something which sounds like it has so little chance of succeeding.   We’re very different Rich …”

He sat up and rubbed his chin.  “Are you saying you don’t want to try?  That you don’t think –“

“No, no. I’m just thinking out loud.  I’ve got baggage, you’ve got baggage.  We live in two different worlds.  Are we just kidding ourselves?  What are we doing?”  She couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid he’d confirm her fears.

“Look, last week we were going to say goodbye yesterday to never see each other again.  We’ve already changed that fate – we’ve got last night, today, tonight and tomorrow.  And we’ve figured out next weekend and, unless I repulse you, a few weekends after that.   This,” He said, shaking the script, “is the means of having more time together. We’ve destroyed the ‘forever goodbye’ and pushed out the see-you-soon goodbye by months.”

He raked his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, “I can’t make promises about what happens after that Hannah.   I can’t tell you everything will come up roses.   I have no fucking idea how Canada, New York and London fit together.  But I had no idea that this weekend could happen either. We can’t _not_ try!  Do you not _want_ to try?”

“You see, this, this is what I mean!  Sometimes I get freaked out.  Sometimes I want to hide.   You really want to get involved with someone who has to fight bailing out on a regular basis?”

“What do you want me to say?  That none of it matters?  That everything is sweet and perfect, that I’ll be your knight in shining armour and keep all the monsters at bay?  I can’t say that Hannah.  I can’t make it all easy and fluffy and take away all your fears.”  He ground out.

She sighed, “You’ve just said exactly what I mean.  I don’t want you to make everything perfect and I can’t do that for you either.  And who wants perfect?  I’m _so_ not perfect.  There will be times that I get insecure and scared and want to flee.  Add that to our geographical problems, I’m asking you honestly, do you really want to invest in something like that?” 

He stood up and paced back and forth in front of the lounger where she sat, head cast down.  “At work I’m quite good at improv, sometimes really good.  It’s not so easy in real life though, is it?”  He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky, waiting, hoping for inspiration to strike.  He rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease out his tense muscles.   “Hannah I need to go for a run to get all this straightened outin my head.   I’m making a muddle of it and I don’t want to cock things up.”  He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his, “What comes out of the mouth in haste isn’t always what’s in the heart and I don’t want to say anything that I don’t really mean.  I’m not running away, I … I don’t want you to think I’m proving your point.  I just really need to think.   Ok?”

She nodded and raised his hands to kiss his knuckles.   Fighting back a sense of doom, she nodded again and gave him a wan smile.  He kissed her hands before he let them fall to her sides and faltered, turning back to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.   “Back soon.”  He whispered.

She closed her eyes and took deep calming breaths.   The screen door banged, making her jump.  _Older and wise? Yes.   Younger and freer?  Not so much._    Hannah didn’t want to be right, she didn’t want to be practical or smart about it, she wanted to be with him in as many ways and as much as possible.   She didn’t want him to disappear out of her life and become a clichéd canoe trip flirtation; just another shipboard romance.

She curled her toes in the grass and stared off into the trees looking for a fairy godmother to come and fix everything, to make it sweet and painless.   _Angst might be romantic in a Disney movie but it sure as hell isn’t in real life._    The grass under her feet, however, was real life and it desperately needed to be mowed.  

She trudged over to the shed and pulled out the mower, checking the gas and topping it up with the gallon she kept on hand.   She primed it and counted to three before yanking the starting cord, the machine whirring to life on first pull. 

She cursed when she realized she was barefoot.  That was a little more stupid than she was willing to be so sheturned off the mower and went into the house to put on socks and shoes.   She walked by the kitchen and saw the dishes drying in the rack and choked back the rising tide of doom.  _Can it really be only a couple of hours since we were laughing and washing dishes together?_   In a blink they went from dewy eyed to tear stained.

Walking through her bedroom door made her sob.  The bed was still unmade, rumpled from where they’d spent the night cocooned in naïve hopefulness.   _Is this how it all ends?  Will it be a sad but dignified farewell before dinner?_ She picked up the pillow he’d slept on and held it close, she could smell him on it, a fading reminder of the scent which had sent her senses and her hopes twirling up and away.

Hannah pulled on a pair of ankle socks and fished her old runners out of the back of the closet.  She should probably wear long pants too but she couldn’t be bothered.   The lawnmower started without a hitch, purring along happily as she slogged back and forth; back and forth across the large yard.

She stopped to move the chairs and table out of the way and her breath hitched again.  _Well, it lasted longer with him than anyone else in the past three years; that’s progress, isn’t it?_    She knew for certain that she no longer wished to spend the rest of her life alone; she wanted the kind of relationship she imagined they might have had.  _That’s progress too, right?_

More mindless walking back and forth _; keep the lines straight, watch for stones, watch for deer poop, don’t think, don’t feel, mow, nothing else_.  The vibrations of the machine travelled up through her arms, creating a pleasant, numbing shake.   The smell of cut grass was heavenly, a perfume which never failed to please.  She could do without the odor of gasoline but you couldn’t have everything.  Sun on her face, arm massage from the mower and fresh cut grass – simple pleasures meant a lot.  _Sometimes simple pleasures are the only kind I have._

She was cutting around a flower bed thinking she could use a little _smackeral_ of something.  There was enough food in the house to have a big _smackeral_ which made her smile sadly.   Suddenly a heavy weight fell onto her shoulders.  She screamed and pushed the mower away from her, spinning on her heels and stared directly at Richard’s chest, his sweaty, t shirt-clinging-to-it chest.    She swallowed and looked up to find him grinning broadly at her.

“What if I were an axe murderer? You have terrible security and absolutely wretched self-defence!”  He teased.

She poked him in the chest with her finger, and crossly said, “You!”   She huffed and turned off the lawn mower before facing him again.   “Do you have any what could have happened, scaring me like that?  What if I ran over your stupid foot or something?  Or my foot?”

“You’d never!  You’re also horrible at making decent threats.  You don’t scare me in the least!  And on that note, I’m going to have a shower and be right back.  Okay?”  He didn’t wait for an answer, he kissed her forehead and sauntered off.

“Stupid men.   Dumb stupid idiots.  I _could_ have run over his foot.  It _could_ happen.”  She grumbled to herself as she restarted the machine and finished off the last bit of the mowing.  Yard work done for the time being, she put the mower away and collected the tray to take into the house. 

Hannah was bent over in the fridge, moving packages around, looking for lunch inspiration when firm fingers dug into her sides.  She screamed, jumped, spun around and gave Richard the stink eye.  

“Seriously?  You got some kinda death wish or something?”   She groused.

He had the decency to look sheepish … for all of 3 seconds.  “Oh come on, tell me honestly if you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing?”

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, glowering at him.  “Yeah, okay.  You’ve got a point.  I’d have done it too.”  She shrugged.   “But I still think you deserve retribution of some kind.”

“I can think of a few ways you could pay me back.”  He pulled her into his arms and swayed his hips against her, stopping quickly when she frowned.  “I’m sorry … talk first?”

She nodded and hugged back, resting her cheek on that chest which was quickly beginning to feel like home, that a growing part of her wished was home.

He walked backward, taking her with him, to the table and moved the chairs to face one another.   He motioned for her to sit and he did the same, taking her hands in his and slowly sucking in a deep breath.   “You don’t scare me.  Your baggage doesn’t scare me.   I might get frustrated or go a bit spare about things, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care or that I don’t want you.”  He chewed on his lip for a moment, “I’m not … what you might call an easy man … and I fuck up sometimes ... with people, probably more than I should.  I don’t know what’s going to happen 4 months from now and I can’t, I won’t, offer empty promises.  I’ve done that before and know how very wrong it is.  Hannah, you’re not too much.”  He waited, watching her brows knit together, release, knit again.    

“We fight a lot.”  She said simply.

He snorted, “Hunny, this aint fighting.  I know fighting and this is not that.   We disagree, sometimes with conviction and emotion, but we haven’t fought.  We were close that time in the restaurant … but that was too short and I didn’t have a chance to retort.  No, we definitely don’t fight a lot.”

“But aren’t there easier women out there?  Ones who wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass?”  She asked quietly, mentally crossing her fingers for his answer.

“Pffft.   Have you met the human race?  Everyone has their stuff Hannah, everyone.   I do have a question for you though, and I think it’s important.” 

She looked up with trepidation, “Yes? Go on.”

“Can you promise me that you will try?  That come what may, you won’t take a runner when things get … difficult?”

“Do or do not. There is no try.”   She mumbled.

“You’re taking the piss!  Yoda?”  He pulled her up off the chair and into his arms.  “Now may I?” He asked, bumping his pelvis into her belly.

“Go ahead.  Grind away to your heart’s content.”  She shook her head at his silliness and quietly heaved a sigh of relief.  _How can he take things from deadly serious to ridiculous in less than a second?_

He swivelled, bumped, ground into her and hummed Time Warp as he twirled her around, no sign of the earlier stress to be found.

“Okay Magic Mike, you keep humping my stomach like that and I’m gonna have indigestion all day!   Let’s get some lunch.”  She laughed and slipped around to the side of him, finding a perfect spot just under his pit with an arm draped over her shoulder.

“I could have lunch.  Where shall we go to eat?”   He asked and matched steps with her as they walked into the living room, looking a lot like they were part of a three legged race.

“Go?  Seriously?  Are you kidding me?  Have you seen the food in that fridge? Oh, there’ll be no going out to eat until that food is gone, g-o-n-e, gone!”   She knocked her head into the side of his chest.

“You’re a little bossy, yeah?”  

“Mmm hmm.  Get over it.”  Every now and then she caught herself saying things to Richard she never would have dreamt of saying to anyone else, with a playfulness and assertiveness that only ever happened in her daydreams.  

She was amazing at coming up with a sarcastic, assertive, even naughty comeback … thirty minutes after someone said something but rarely, if not never, at the right time.   When she replayed conversationsin her mind, she could almost always come up with an intelligent way to express her thoughts and opinions.   They didn’t ever come to her at the moment she needed them though, or if they did, she was too afraid of what the other person would say if she did speak her mind.     That rarely happened with Richard and it was liberating.   She gave him a squeeze of appreciation.

“Omelette with the tomatoes and mushrooms?  Oooo, there are some potatoes too.  Maybe a frittata?  Did you freeze all the back bacon?”  He asked, smacking his lips at the creation taking shape in his mind.

“There’s some there.  Um, you made breakfast, shouldn’t I do lunch?”  Hannah offered.

He leered at her, “It’s quite alright.   I’ll take it out in trade later.” 

“Yep.  You’re definitely Giganticus  Perverticus.   How can you turn lunch into a sex fest?”  She asked.

“Let’s get rid of these pants and I’ll show you.”  He waggled his eyebrows and made a show of licking his lip with his very firm, pointy tongue.

“Arghh, stop already.  You’re making this too hard!”  She dropped her forehead onto him, the stirrings of something which was not on the menu starting low in her core.

“Hehehe.   No, it’s you who’s making it too hard.”  He bumped like a horny dog against her hip and she gasped.

“How can you walk around with that in your pants?”

“Oh you mean this?”  He bumped again.  “This isn’t even full mast, this is just the captain taking a peek to see if there might be anything interesting on the horizon.  When he finds there isn’t, he’ll go back below decks like a good sea man.”

She groaned.   “Oh lord save me from this madman! Apologize to the captain for me will you?”

He leaned down to her ear and dropped his voice, “You could tell him yourself.  He’d love to hear from you.”  He licked his way up her neck to her ear.

Hannah shoved him away and scowled, “Yeah, I don’t think so.  The last time I tried to shake hands with the captain you cut me off and left me stranded with no relief on _my_ horizon!  Now, stop the silly euphemisms and let’s get this lunch thing going, we have a book, er a script, to finish reading.”

“Yes, I was right.  You certainly are bossy.  Okay, can you pull the stuff from the fridge?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have put together a Pinterest board of several of Tom Thomson's paintings, just as a little side dish ....  
> https://www.pinterest.com/alanamore/tom-thomson-art/
> 
> Huge, heart squishing thanks for reading and making comments - it's a HUGE high to see a notification on the inbox. THANK YOU for making this a real, physical joy!


	28. Death is All Around Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday afternoon

Hannah handed him ingredients from the fridge and they made a frittata for lunch, Richard sharing his impressions of Tom and his relationship with his art.  He cleared his throat a few more times so Hannah made a ginger lemon honey tisane for him to sip while they waited for the frittata.

After lunch they cleaned the kitchen, somewhat slowed down by Richard’s insistence of creeping up behind her and either wrapping himself around her or gently brushing her hair aside to kiss her neck.  Eventually, after many smiles and happy sighs, Hannah refilled the tray and they headed back out to the yard to resume their reading.

Comfortably situated on the lounger, Richard set the script down on his lap.  “I think you should read some of it.” 

Her head snapped up and she shook it rapidly, “Oh, no no no.  I don’t think so.   Yeah, no.  You might as well ask me to make croquembouche with Julia Child.  Not.  Gonna.  Happen.”

“Oh don’t be silly.  It’s just you and I here in your garden.  You do know how to read don’t you?”  He raised one eyebrow and waited for her answer.

“Rich, have you heard your voice?  Seriously, I can’t read with you it would be … embarrassing.”  She groaned.

“Well, yeah, I have heard it, sort of a requirement of the job, you know.  I’m not asking you to dramatize it, just speak as if you were reading to your auntie who’s lying in hospital.”  He gave her puppy dog eyes and she turned red.

“I’m gonna suck.”

“Promise?”

“Oh shut up.  I’ll try, but if it’s too weird I’m gonna stop and you’re _not_ gonna try to get me to do it again, okay?”  She gave him a warning look so fierce, he capitulated immediately, with a grin.

“Of course.  Now, where were we?”

“Tom has just left working at Legg Brothers for Grip Limited and has met JEH MacDonald.”

“Right.  You take all the females plus Lismer and Varley, yeah?  Okay, here we go.” 

“Fine.  This is the dumbest idea ever.”  She mumbled under her breath.

They read the script, Hannah stumbling for the first page and a half but eventually finding a comfortable rhythm.   Richard found it interesting to listen to her; she spoke with the emotions she was feeling as a reader, not those of the characters, frequently using peculiar emphasis and incongruous tones.   However, her receptiveness and open reaction to the material excited him.   She felt the power of the script as he had, and reacted just as he did in many places. 

When Tom and Winnie had a terrible fight and Tom said he couldn’t see her any longer, Hannah was prostrate and had to stop for a few minutes.  “But she’s pregnant and Tom loves her and he wants a family and … oh this is shit! This is awful!  I hate this!  Everyone’s heart is gonna break.  This is the worst movie ever.  They’re not going to have a happy ending and this is just bullshit.  Why not rip my heart out, stomp on it, set it on fire, douse it in poison and then put it back in my chest?  Huh?  Why does it have to be so fucking sad?”   She sniffled and wiped her eyes on the hem of his shirt.

Richard cringed, it was only going to get worse and he wondered if perhaps they should take a break before the part about the mystery on the lake.  He was right, they should have taken a break.

Hannah looked up at him with red rimmed eyes, sobbing and angry.  “You died!  You bastard.”

He wanted to laugh, but was 99.999% certain that would go over like a lead balloon, “Well, yes, Tom does die.  It happened nearly 100 years ago, Hannah, and … um … you showed me where he died.   I sort of thought that might be a solid hint for what happens in the movie.”

“No, not Tom.  I know Tom Thomson died on the lake.   It’s you!  I’m gonna have to watch you die and I don’t think I can stand it.  Just listening to you read the damn thing was bad enough … that’s it … I’m never watching this movie.  Never!”

“You have to admit, it makes the movie quite interesting though.   And it’s not me, I’m nothing like Tom.  How Tom dies is quite certainly nothing like how I will die.   Well, unless the next time we’re out on the lake you take a paddle to the back of my head.”  He hugged her closely and smiled over the top of her head, “Maybe … it might be a good idea to figure out how we can separate me from my characters.  What do you think?”

“For pete’s sake.  I’m not brain dead.  I know you’re not your characters.  Well, not much anyway.  You’re a little like Harry and I’ve definitely seen some Guy expressions.”  She blushed because memories of fantasies and dreams came flooding back.

“Oh, so you’ve seen Dibley and Hood?   I thought you had no idea who I was.”  He sounded vaguely disappointed.

“I didn’t.  I watched them after your first day here.  Thought it was respectful to at least have seen something you’d done, you being famous and everything.”  She said brightly.

“You know, Guy dies.”

“Really?  Oh that’s not much of a surprise.  He pretty much courted danger … too bad though.  He was the only thing that made the show interesting.  It was kinda lame except for him and the sheriff.”   She tried to remember the episodes she’d watched but they slipped away leaving only a general impression of Guy good, Hood bad.

“Okay then.  Thanks for that.  Guess I won’t need to worry about you inflating my ego.”  He said with a wounded face.

“Oh get a grip, Alice.  I said you were good, it was the rest that was … not great.  Man, you actors and your egos.”   She closed her eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh, “How do you make it through the day without someone fawning over you?”

“Well, I can’t really.  There’s a job opening for fawning, care to apply?”  He asked sweetly.

“Pffft.  Not highly likely.   I’m many things, a fawner isn’t one of them.  I _will_ tell you if you have spinach in your teeth and if I think you’re out of your mind.  You know, you’ve unleashed this honesty beast and it won’t go back in the cave – sorry for your luck.”

“I’ll survive.  Now, are you ready to finish the last few pages?”  He waved the script in front of her.

“Fine.  But you’re gonna be a human hankie when I start crying again.”  She warned.

“Mission accepted.”  He saluted.

True to her word, Hannah cried her heart out at the end of the script. 

“Do you always cry like this at movies?”  He patted her back and stroked her hair.

“Oh this is nothing, you should see what happens if kittens or puppies are involved.  And old people – old people kill me.  And kids, it’s hard when sad shit happens to kids.” 

“So, you’re saying you don’t want to rent The Notebook or Terms of Endearment next weekend?”

“Ha ha funny guy.  I can watch them, I just need a double hit of IV fluids afterwards.  Do you die a lot in your movies?”

“Only once per character so no, not a lot.”  He gave her a jiggle-hug and mouthed laughing at his own joke.

“Dope.  Do you often play characters who die?  Is that better?” 

“That’s an interesting question …”

“Stop stalling, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“If I’m honest I’d have to say yes, quite a few of my characters have died.”

“Let me see your favourite last breath.”

“What?  Are you mad?  I can’t just die on the spot like that.”  Richard was aghast.

“What kind of actor are you?  I’d think lots of people die on the spot with all the violence in movies these days.”  She chided.

“Haha very funny.  Give me a moment.  You know Guy, do you want his dying words?”

“Sure, okay.  That’ll work.”  Hannah nodded.

“Right. Okay I have to lie down on the grass and you have to hold my hand.”

He arranged them to his satisfaction.  “Should I avoid spoilers or may I set the scene?”

“Go for it.”

“Okay, Guy’s sister, Isabella, has shown up in Nottingham.  Bad blood there and it’s a vipers nest.  He’s a mess because at the end of the last series he killed Marian –

“YES!!!!  Oh, sorry.  She gave women a bad name.  Continue.”

“A bit blood thirsty, are we?  I think Guy would have liked you – not your dislike for Marian, mind you.   Anyway, he was haunted because he killed Marian.   He finds out he and Robin share a half-brother, Archer, and that’s all a mess.  In the final scene there is a battle with Robin, Guy, and Archer against Vaisey and Isabella.  Guy jumps in the way to save Robin and is mortally wounded.  So here we are, on the ground and I say …”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them to gaze at her as if from far away, “I'm sorry. At least you have someone waiting for you: Marian...the love of my life. She was always yours. I lived in shame, but because of you I die proud...and free.”   He was Richard but he wasn’t.  When his eyes closed in death she gasped. 

She shook him, alarmed at the way his entire body went flaccid and she couldn’t feel him drawing breath.  “Rich, Richard wake up.”  

He grinned, “Good?”

“Oh shut up.  It was alright.”  She shoved him.  “It wasn’t … it wasn’t you.  Until I couldn’t tell if you were breathing and then it was you again.   You’re pretty good at this stuff, eh?”

“I can do a passable job, I think.”  He shrugged.

“Do another one.”  She smirked.

“Seriously?  You want me to die for you?”  He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, do it.  Do it.  Please?”  She lit up with excitement.

“Oh brother.   Okay, since I’m down here already, how about Thorin Oakenshield?”  He asked.

She squeaked, “Holy crap – I forgot that was you. I saw the first two but then I kinda stopped going to movies so I didn’t see the last one.  Oh man, this is gonna be amazing.   Thorin!  Who knew?”

“This one’s going to take a couple of minutes.   You’ll be Bilbo.”  He closed his eyes and hummed, taking his voice lower and lower.  When he opened his eyes again he was broken and failing.   He made Thorin’s farewell speech and let death take him.

Hannah screamed, “No. No Thorin no.  Don’t go!” She cried and pulled Richard to her, rocking back and forth.

He opened his eyes and smirked, “You don’t seem to have any issues with willing suspension of disbelief.”

“Wow.  That was amazing!  I think I have to see that movie.  Just have an ambulance on standby.”  She grinned gleefully.  “Do another one.  Which one’s your favourite? Do that one if it’s not Thorin or Guy.”

“Hmmm.  I believe it would be Lucas North from Spooks.  Are you sure you want me to do this?”

She nodded emphatically.

He set up the circumstances which led to Lucas’ demise.   As before, he closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he was Lucas, not Richard.   “I am nothing.”  He said and faded into death.   It was hard to act falling off a building on Hannah’s lawn but she got the message.

“Amazing.  More please!”

“Are you getting off on me dying?”   She nodded with an evil grin.

Richard went through the death scenes for Proctor, Porter, Kruger, Turner, and Macalwain with rave reviews from his audience of one.

“Oh man.  That was great.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.”  She snuggled up to him on the grass and laid her head on his chest.

“Mmm, very nice.  If I’d known that dying would get me this kind of action, I’d have done it sooner.”  He crooned in her ear.

“Ahhh.  Not to be argumentative or anything but … I don’t think it requires that much effort to get a bit of action.   You’ve flipped some kind of switch here and … you don’t have to do anything other than smile … or … blink.   Yeah, blinking would do it.”   She giggled and wondered when giggling became … normal.

He felt so good; solid and warm.   His heart beating under her ear was more beautiful than any symphony; she could lay like that all day safely ensconced in his strong arms. They’d have terrible grass stains but she couldn’t care less.   She hooked her leg over his thigh and looked up at him with a grin.   She’d found paradise and the corninessof it made her laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?”  He booped her nose.

“This.  It’s insane.  It’s ridiculous.”  She booped his nose right back.

“It is that and I find I don’t mind a bit.  It’s sort of fun feeling like a teenager again.  But this time without the horrible acne and self-esteem issues.”  He chuckled.  “And you should be relieved that I most definitely know how to work the equipment now.”

“Good to know.  I guess I can put back the Sex 101 instruction manual then?”

“Oh darling, we’ll not need any help in that area.  We’ll get on just fine.  I’ve been practising for nearly 30 years and I think I’ve gotten quite good, if I do say so myself.”  

“Better than dying?”

“Much.” 

“Excellent.  So, you are dying in this movie.”  She let out a heavy sigh.

“Mmm hmm.  But as you’ve seen, I recover rather quickly.”

“You do.  Tom doesn’t.”

“Well, there is that.”

“So, what would I do as an extra?”  She played with his shirt and concentrated on not freaking out.

“Most of the scenes in the lake will need someone else out in a canoe.  Remember the scenes with Lismer?  I think there as well.  I’ll ask on Monday and can give you more information next weekend if they go for it.  Honestly, Ithink they’ll be thrilled to have someone with your experience on the water.   Do you think Tara will want to too?”

“She might, but both of us can’t be away from work at the same time, especially in the height of summer.  I’ll have to do some fancy footwork to get time off as it is.”  She worried that even if she worked herself up to doing it and the film people approved, she might not be able to because of work.  “Richard?”

“Mmm?”

“Will I be able to talk to you there, when you’re not filming of course?”

“Yeah, of course …. but it should be about work … I get a bit … um … single minded and can’t think of other things when I’m on set.”  He didn’t want to be such a cranky old git, sometimes it just happened that way.  

“My name wouldn’t appear anywhere would it?”

“Not if you don’t want it to.”

“Good, I don’t.  I’ve had one brush with minor celebrity and don’t want to do that again.”  She shivered.

“That’s something we should probably talk about, yeah?” 

“Do we have to?”

“No, but it might make things easier.”

“Fine.  Just … not this afternoon, okay?”

“Very well then, not this afternoon.   After supper?”

“Sure.  So, what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

“What I _want_ to do is much different than what I _may_ do.”

“Good lord Perverticus, do you think of anything else?”

“There are other things to think about?  Hmmm, tell me of these mysterious things of which you speak.”

“Oh gimme a break. You’re such a pain the ass.”

He whispered low and throaty in her ear, “That can be arranged.”

Hannah groaned and shook her head, “So funny I forgot to laugh.  Well, I have a bunch of phone calls and emails to return so I’m gonna abandon you for a while, ‘kay?”

“Certainly.   I wanted to do a bit more on the scene with JEH MacDonald and I seem to remember mentioning mowing the front lawn.”  He drawled.

Hannah sniggered and broke eye contact.

“What?  What are you laughing about now?”

“My boyfriend’s gonna mow my lawn.”  She buried her face in his chest.

He chuckled low and lifted her face to look at him, with a patented smoulder he said, “That too can be arranged.”


	29. Maths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late Saturday afternoon

Hannah returned several phone calls and was nearly talked out.   There were three cryptic messages from Tara telling her to call her cell but when she did, it when straight to voice mail.  She shrugged and figured that Tara would call when she could if it was important enough, otherwise she’d see her on Monday.

She groaned at her inbox, choked with hundreds of emails.   She sorted alphabetically and was able to quickly purge roughly three quarters of them quickly.   She was left with 47 which she actually had to read and groaned at the time suck some of them were.  Bank statements,  blog updates, motivational quotes from her Dad, pictures from her sister, daily notes from Missy, invitations to her niece’s birthday party, and more than a handful from Tara to call her as soon as possible.

Her mild puzzlement over Tara’s cell messages turned into full blown concern with her emails.  The multiple messages were completely out of character for Tara and it was becoming alarming.   She emailed her colleague and sent a text as well, just to be on the safe side.   Hannah sat chewing on her thumbnail, wondering what in the world had happened.    The last time she’d seen Tara, she was climbing onto a float plane taking Neve off to hospital for a broken ankle. _What’s going on?  Mark didn’t mention anything to explain such weird behaviour. Tara-baby, call me back.  I’m freaking out a little._

Jittery energy frayed her nerves, making her jumpy and unable to focus.   She checked her cell phone every few minutes, fretting that she may have missed a call or text.    To pass the time she threw herself into her least favourite task, finishing the laundry.   Sorting and tossing it in the washing machine wasn’t so bad.   Putting it into the dryer was okay if she hadn’t forgotten it in the washer for too long.  But folding and sorting?  They were the bane of her existence.   The loads from the previous evening sat in the machines, taunting her, daring her to finish their journey from hamper to hangers and drawers. 

With an exasperated huff, she tossed a dripping wet facecloth into the dryer and turned it on for ten minutes, hoping to steam out some of the wrinkles.   While waiting for it to finish she pulled the wets from the washer and filled it with another load.    She snickered as she threw a pair of Richard’s briefs into the machine, wondering if they were the ones she almost took off him.  If he hadn’t stopped her, she wouldn’t have stopped herself and the realization of that fact was surprising.  

Hannah wasn’t kidding when she told Richard she wasn’t a casual sexer.  She’d always felt that the heart and mind had to be involved before the panties came off.  For a woman who vowed to never allow another to hold sway over her, she was not amused that she very nearly ignored her principles because of him.   _Ignored?  Ha.  Threw them out the window is more like it!_ Two weeks was not nearly enough time to take a relationship to physical, no matter how nice and how sexy he was.  

To add insult to injury, it was him who stopped them, not her.   _I allowed a man to cloud my judgement and then it was he who nudged,  errr pushed, me back on track?!_    _Double whammy!_     The thought of a man ‘knowing better’ offended her in theory and in practise.   A new cloud fell over their upcoming weekend where they agreed to boink each other senseless.

The dryer’s buzzer went off and she pulled the warm clothes out, attempting to keep them from wrinkling.  She tossed the wet clothes in, setting the controls to dry and dumping the basket of dry clothes on her bed and began folding them.   With each item of his, her stomach fluttered a little and she felt chagrined for being so horribly corny.   She wasn’t living in the 1940’s where a gal blushed when a fella looked her way – laundering his unmentionables was not an appropriate reason to swoon.  She cringed and resolved to put an end to such ridiculous behaviour and then smirked because … well … she was touching his unmentionables … and she got the same kind of wobblies with the thought of him folding her unmentionables.  What a roller coaster doing laundry had become.

There was pleasure in the intimate domesticity of the mundane task of folding his shirts and pants and socks which was light years ahead of where they were in their relationship.   On paper the speed with which things were progressing sounded wrong, in her brain it _was_ wrong, but where intuition and feelings flourished, it felt as natural as breathing.   She tossed his socks onto the pile of his clothes and folder her own as if it was the most natural routine in the world.   Was there a place in between her brain and her feelings, somewhere both logically and intuitively right?   As she put away her clothes she wondered if such a place existed.  _Too much, too fast!_

One thing was certain, she was not looking forward to telling Richard that sex probably wasn’t in the cards for them anytime soon.  _We have to do this right, dammit._ She was quite sure he was 

looking forward to it nearly as much as she was.   _Granted, it probably hasn’t been over three years for him._    She groaned, last month she wouldn’t have been upset to never have sex again and then *boom* she was chomping at the bit.   Throwing her pajamas in to a drawer she cursed under her breath; reconciling body, mind and heart was a pain in the ass.  

Putting the rest of her clean clothes away she found the other t-shirt she’d bought for Richard and snickered, _he’ll love it_.   She unfolded it and tucked it into the middle of his clean laundry for him to discover all on his own.   She was taking the small pile into the guest room when her cell phone buzzed.

“Tarr?   What’s happening?”  Hannah shouted into the phone.

“Oh Hannie I’m so glad you’re finally home.  It’s been nuts!”  Tara heaved a sigh of relief.

“What’s going on?”

“Neve is in the hospital.  She’s okay but it’s serious and it’s all because of you.”   Tara croaked.

Hannah’s mind raced, what had she done to put Neve in the hospital?   She went over everything when Neve banged her head while hiking on the Track and Tower trail and then when she broke her ankle on their campsite.  

“Tara, you’ve gotta tell me what I’ve done.  I don’t understand.   I followed protocols, I got her to a hospital both times.” The lump in her throat choked her.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this right.  Because of what you did they found it and now she’s going to be okay.”

“Tara!  Found what? You’re killing me!”  Hannah shouted.

“Neve had a colloid cyst in her brain and because you took her to the hospital and made them do the tests, they found it.   She had it out this morning!”   Tara tried to explain.

“But she didn’t have an MRI or anything, I don’t understand.  Tara this isn’t making sense.   Slow down and start from the beginning.” Hannah demanded.

“Okay.   So we got to the hospital in Huntsville and they decided the break was bad enough to need an orthopaedic surgeon but theirs was on vacation so they had her medevac’d to Toronto.  St. Michael’s Hospital did the whole admit thing and she jokingly told them about falling and banging her head the week before and they wanted more info.   I guess two serious falls, a broken bone and a head bonk, inside of a week set off some sort of alarm bells.  They did some basic neurological tests and all of a sudden she’s being whisked off for an MRI.   Turns out she has … had … a colloid cyst pressing on her brain and it could have caused her to stroke out if it grew any bigger or burst.   But she’s out of surgery now and it looks like everything went perfectly.”

Hannah gasped, she was shocked at the jeopardy Neve had been in.  She’d answered many calls for strokes and brain injury and it was nothing to sneeze at.  A small benign cyst could end a life as easily as a squamous cell carcinoma, if left to its own devices.   She racked her memory trying to find any indication of neurological impairment and she couldn’t.  Other than tripping twice, she couldn’t think of anything.

“I’m glad she’s okay.  I didn’t have anything to do with getting her diagnosed though.  Can I come see her?”  Hannah asked. 

“Of course you can come.   And apparently you did have something to do with it.  You insisted she go to the hospital and you made them do the EEG or whatever, which the docs at St. Mike’s  compared to theirs.   On their own, not knowing about the other fall or banging her head, they wouldn’t have looked further than the ankle.    YOU insisted she go to the hospital and gave them the gears until they examined her beyond the standard stuff.  If you hadn’t been so bossy and known what to ask for, it wouldn’t have happened Hannah!   You probably saved her life!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I didn’t do anything!”   Hannah scoffed.

Tara huffed impatiently, “Ah, yeah you did!  Didn’t you listen?  If you hadn’t insisted on going to the hospital and made such a big fuss over head injuries, they wouldn’t have looked pastthe ankle.  It was pretty big Hannah!  It might even have thrown her balance off and been the reason she tripped.” 

“Well that’s nice for you to say, but I only did basic first aid.  Tarr, you would have done exactly the same if I wasn’t there.” 

“No Hannah.  I wouldn’t have known what to insist on at the hospital.  Hell, I probably just would have called Tele-Health and not even bothered with the hospital at all.   So, suck it up, you’re a hero.” Tara chuckled.

Hannah grumbled, “Well, I don’t think so but I don’t feel like arguing so let’s pretend we agree. Wait, what are you doing there?  Why isn’t her husband there?”

Tara shrugged although Hannah couldn’t see her, “He is.  So are her parents and her brother.  I just felt … like I had to be here today.   We didn’t have any big trips on the calendar so Mark was able to handle it without me.”

“Should I come down too?” Hannah asked.

“Not today.  But she can’t fly for twelve weeks so she’ll probably want some company soon” 

Hannah gasped, “What about the movie?” 

“Nice to see where your priorities are! Remind me never to have brain surgery.”  

“Pfft.  She’s stable, you said for me not to come, the whole reason we know her is because of the movie and it’s a big deal.   Don’t give me grief.” 

“Nobody’s said anything but I can’t imagine how she could possibly do the movie now.  Maybe if they put off filming for a couple of months but she will have lots of restrictions for quite a while.”  Tara explained. “They treat brain surgery like it’s a big deal or something.”

“Oh man.  Bad for her, bad for the movie.   Hey, I was going to come to Toronto next weekend anyway, is there anything I can bring or do you need me to do anything while you’re there or –“  Hannah asked.

“Nah.  I’m coming back on Wednesday.  Maybe give Mark a bit of mentoring.  Hey, wait – you’re coming down to the city? Wassup?”  Tara’s voice betrayed her amusement and surprise.

“Oh … nothing …. I … ah … just thought I’d go see a friend.  That’s all.   Listen, I gotta go.  Text me when she’s back in her room and let me know if there’s anything you need.  ‘Kay?”  Hannah asked.

“Sure.  You okay?  You sound funny.  Yeah, I’ll keep you updated.  Oh, hey, before you go, what time did you guys get off the lake yesterday?   They’ve been trying to reach Richard but he’s not at The Pines and he’s not answering his cell phone.”

“It was kind of late.  We got chased across Canoe Lake by a storm.   It was pretty awful actually –“   Hannah was distracted by the sound of the screen door slamming and Richard’s deep call.

“It’s hot out there, is there any more of that lemony wa—“

Hannah slapped one hand over the phone and pressed her finger against her lips, hoping against hope that Tara hadn’t heard his booming voice.

“Ah, yeah.  His cell phone was probably dead.  Just keep trying.  Listen, I gotta go, talk to you soon.”

“Hey, not so fast Miss!  That was a man’s voice.  You have a man in your house!   Hannnnnah, who’s there?”  Tara teased and suddenly gasped.  “That sounded like Richard!  Was that Richard?   Oh my – holy crap – you’ve got Richard in your house.  Hannah –“

“Gotta go. Bye.”  Hannah pressed the end button on the call and stared at Richard like a deer caught in headlights.

“Any chance there might be something to save a dying man?   Water, water, my kingdom for a glass of lemon water.   What’s the matter?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Ah.   Maybe you should sit down.”  Hannah pulled the pitcher out of the fridge and poured fruit and herb infused water over two glasses of ice cubes.   She chewed on her lip, unsure where or how to start.   _Straight to the point is probably best, just rip the bandage off quickly._

“First off, everyone’s okay.  This morning Neve had surgery to remove a cyst from her brain.  Tara is down there with her and her family.   Secondly, Tara doesn’t think Neve will be able to continue with _Shorelines._    And … thirdly … um … I think Tara … no, I know Tarr recognized your voice and knows you’re here.”  

“Wh-what?  Say again?”

“Neve’s had brain surgery, she probably can’t be in the movie; and Tara knows something’s up between us.”  She wrungher hands together and clenched her teeth together so tightly she was sure to get a headache.  

Richard continued to stare at her, not speaking and barely blinking.

“Say something.   Are you angry with me?”   Hannah fretted.

“Why in the world would I be angry with you?”

“It’s my fault Tara knows.”  She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Let’s get back to that … what happened to Neve?”

Hannah explained everything she knew from her conversation with Tara, leaving out Tara’s misguided belief that Hannah played some sort of heroic role in it.

“So, she’s going to be okay then?”  Richard quietly asked.

“Yeah, I mean, that’s what Tara told me.  I only talked to her for a few minutes so it’s not like I have every detail but they got it before it ruptured or wrapped itself around significant blood vessels so I guess it’s just your run of the mill brain surgery … which means that they’ve mucked around in her head and she’s gonna have a long and probably frustrating recovery.”   Hannah sighed.

“Wow.   This is … I don’t know what to say … I’m glad she’ll be well.  I’m sort of gobsmacked.” 

“I know.  It’s mind boggling.  Are you worried about the movie? Are you … upset with me?” 

Richard pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.  “Not sure about the movie.  Definitely not upset with you.”

Hannah slumped against him, relieved she hadn’t put her foot in it.

“Why would your first thought be that I’d go spare?”  He asked as he stroked her hair.

“Well … what if she lets it slip?  What if people find out?  What if it makes things complicated for you?”  She chewed on her lip again.

“On Monday I’m asking if you can be an extra in the movie.  They can put two and two together, you know.  By Tuesday there will be more than a dozen people who will know that I have a friend and they will know her name.  Frankly, I trust Tara more than I trust them.   Hannah, I’m not wanting to call a press conference, and we could use as much time on our own as possible before the circus begins, but I’ll not hide you away like a dirty little secret either.”  He paused and gently lifted her chin up.  “Why were you so sure I’d be angry with you?  Am I that much of a beast?”

“NO!  No of course not.   I screwed up … it could make things very … inconvenient for you.”  

Richard  took her by the hand and led her into the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling her into his lap.

“I’m thinking this isn’t about me.  This is about the past, yeah?   About Ridley?  Hannah, what did he do to you?”  Richard gently asked.

“He didn’t do anything bad … not like what you mean.   It’s just that he would get a look, like he was so disappointed and angry and frustrated.  Like I’d made a mess of everything … again.  He never said anything specifically mean or hurt me or anything.   He’d just sigh and I knew that I screwed up.”  She shrugged and hoped he’d stop talking about it.  She didn’t want to think about or talk about Ridley and she most definitely didn’t want the acid which was threatening to erupt in her belly to spill over again.

Richard squeezed her tightly for a moment and then pulled back to look at her.   “I’m not an expert but I think that’s rather fucked up … that he was fucked up … he was trying to fuck you up.  He sounds a mentally abusive control freak.  Hannah, he played a game to make you feel horrid about yourself and I’m quite certain that’s a sort of abuse.  Fuck! I want to punch him in the nuts for doing that to you.”

Hannah smiled at that, “Neanderthal.”

Richard grunted and pounded a fist against his chest. “Bad man hurt woman. My woman!”

“Oh good grief.  Nice of you to offer but I can take care of nut punching for myself, thanks.”  She sighed and stroked his face, tracing the ridge of his brow and his strong jaw before leaning in to kiss him.

Richard’s arms wrapped around her as hers linked together at the nape of his neck.   He touched his lips to her, slowly parted them, taking hers with him and lightly touched his tongue to hers.   Her happy moan woke the sleeping need within him and he wanted to take her, right then and there.  He groaned with sadness and a touch of disappointment; _this is most certainly not the right time_. _Even if she hadn’t wanted to wait, she is vulnerable and I will not take advantage of her, no matter how uncomfortable my pants are.  When the hell did I turn into such a fucking saint?_

“I have no doubt we’ll piss each other off and I have no idea what I’ll do or say … but I do know that I will not make you feel bad about yourself, at least never on purpose.   I may be crotchety, sulky, angry, rude or who knows what else but it will be about what’s happened, not about who you are.  I think as we get to know each other, we’ll understand more and have frustrations less, maybe.  I’m not making any sense at all, am I?”

Hannah laid her head back on his chest and worried the button on his shirt.   She’d been quiet for so long Richard began to relax and enjoy the feeling of her weight against him.

Hannah whispered, “This morning - holy crap was it just this morning? – we talked about baggage and I might have more than I thought.   I buried Ridley this morning, or at least I decided he was buried but maybe it’s not so easy as just deciding to do it.   Or maybe it doesn’t happen all at once.   I don’t know.   There’s a three way war going on inside me right now.   A part wants to run away and not face these shitty reactions; a part wants to just pretend it never happened; and a part wants to figure it out and put it in the past.   There’s this niggling voice which keeps saying I’m too messed up to be with anyone.”

“Did you ever have the feeling that this life business isn’t quite as linear as they’ve led us to believe?  I’m sort of starting to think that they’ve fed us a load of shite.   If we knew to expect that sometimes we’d have to revisit things a few times before they were truly put to rest, we’d have a much easier go of it.”  Richard kissed the top of her head again.  Each time he’d done so he felt a wave of something flow through her.   He couldn’t name it but it was a wonderfully good thing and he wanted to make it happen, often.

Hannah looked up at him smiling.   “Do you stay awake nights thinking up nice things to say?  You sure have some doozies!”   She craned her neck to kiss him on the cheek.  “Thank you Richard.  I never thought about it like that but I think it makes sense … some stuff turns into zombies when you bury it ...  some stuff just doesn’t want to stay buried the first time.   And … you’re okay with that?  I’ve tried to warn you, I’ve got some stuff … and maybe more than I realized.”

“Zombies, eh?  You know, I’m friends with Andy Lincoln the most badass zombie killer of all time.  You’ve got zombies?  Bring ‘em on!” He chuckled and squished her tight.

“But seriously … we’ve known each other for two weeks … isn’t that a little early to get saddled with a bunch of brain hungry zombies?”

“You know, that’s quite interesting.  I was thinking about that very thing while I was running.   It’s quite simple really.  It’s just maths.”

“Maths? What in the world does that mean?  Twelve days?  Is that maths?  And why do you English insist on putting an S on the end of that word?”  Hannah grinned.

“Really?  Is the word mathematic or mathematic **s**?  You colonials, so provincial.”   He teased.

“Um … when you abbreviate a word you don’t leave on the last letter.   Refrigerator doesn’t become fridger; television doesn’t become tvn.  Get with the program!”

“Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted; it’s all a matter of mathS.”  He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Have you a pen and paper anywhere around here?” 

“Yeah.  Just a sec.”   Hannah pushed off against his stomach making him grunt as she got up.  She rummaged around in a kitchen drawer and came back with an unopened envelope and an eyeliner pencil.

Richard looked at Hannah with eyebrows up in his hairline and she simply shrugged.  “Didn’t like the way it smudged.”

“Not quite what I meant but it’ll do.  Now, come, sit.  Let me show you a thing as the interweb cool kids say.   Okay, how many days have we known each other?”

“Ten … oh wait I guess it’s eleven now.”  Hannah amended herself.

“Right.  How many hours a day, roughly, have we spent together on those eleven days?”

“Oh hell, I don’t know.  The days in the park were more than the prep days.”

“Give me your best guess.”  He asked, with eyeliner poised above the envelope.

Hannah puffed out her cheeks and squished air from side to side before letting it out like a leaky balloon, “Well … I dunno … four days were about ten hours each and then the rest were probably closer to sixteen hours a day each.”

Richard scribbled down the figures.  “Good.  Now follow me on this and check my mathS.

10 hours x 4 days =   40 hours; 16 hours x 7 days = 112 hours; together for a total of 152 hours.  Does that sound right?”  He continued when she nodded.  “Right.  How many hours would a decent date last?”

“I dunno.  Three? Four?”  She shrugged.  She hadn’t been out on a date in so long she could barely remember what one looked like.

“Four it is.”  He wrote down the number and paused for more calculations.  “Okay, we have 152 hours divided by 4 which gives us 38 dates.  Good.  Last question, how many dates should we have each week in this courting business?”

“You’re making my brain hurt!  How do I know?  In the beginning maybe once or twice a week but if we still like each other after a while maybe two or three? Are we nearly done?  This is worse than trying to calculate the amount of adrenalin to push for a child in anaphylactic shock.” Hannah grumbled good naturedly.

“Yeah.  Last bit, I promise.  Okay, let’s do two options.  First option, two dates a week.  That’s 38 dates divided by two which works out to nineteen weeks and that’s roughly four and a half months worth, yeah?”

“Okay ….” 

“Second option, three dates a week. That’s 38 divided by three which rounds up to thirteen.  Thirteen weeks is about three months.  So depending on how you look at it, we’ve been dating between three to four and half months!”  He said, exceptionally proud of himself for such brilliance in concept and execution.

“What?  Are you kidding me?  You’ve taken us from eleven days to four and a half months?  Are you out of your mind?”   Her mind was going a mile a minute.  Maybe it was playing fast and loose with cold hard reality but he had a point, it’s not like they’d had the normal eleven days of first making someone’s acquaintance where you’d maybe spend a few hours together.  And if she even cut his four and a half months in half that was still the equivalent of dating someone for more than two months and that wasn’t disrespectful to her sensibilities in the least.   She gasped and stared at him, mouth hanging open.

“Wot?  What’s the matter?”

“The brain and the feelings.  They can meet! Oh Richard, this is the best news in the world!!!”  She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him fiercely.  Thoughts of the following weekend burned in her imagination and lit a fire in her belly.

He pulled back for a moment and grinned, “So, four and a half months; is that long enough for me to be able to make an informed decision on whether or not I want to be there while you slay your zombies?”                                                                                                                                                                                             

“You’ve got my back, Jack?”  She snickered.

“And your front and your top and your bottom and your ….”  He couldn’t finish the inventory because his Mum taught him to never speak with his mouth full.


	30. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late Saturday afternoon

After a thorough snog Hannah collapsed against him, sighing happily.  “That was nice; really, really nice.”

“Hmm.  Nice?  I must not be doing it right if it’s only _nice_.”   He teased.   “I should have thought you’d swoon and tell me no one else could ever compare.”

 “Oh brother!   Is this an actor thing or a man thing?   Do you need to have your ego stroked at every turn?”

 He chuckled, low and deep, “Not my ego, no.”  He grinned when she rolled her eyes.  “Wot?  What did you expect?”

 “Oh Perverticus, you’re SO predictable.”  She squeezed him in a tight hug and let go to look up at him. “Knowing this is probably a dumb question, she’ll ask anyway:  anything special you’d like to do tonight?”

 “Hehehe … maybe.  Anything special you’d like me to do tonight?”   He traced his fingers up and down her thigh.

 “Mmmm, yeah I think there is something ... _special_.  Do you like dirty talk?”  She smiled when he nodded so vigourously he risked whiplash.  “It’s really dirty, are you sure?”  He nodded again.  “I want you to use your big strong hands and … I don’t know if I can say it.”  She blushed.

 “You can tell me.”  His voice broke on the ‘me’.

 “It’s kind of embarrassing.  Maybe I should just … you know … take care of it myself.”

 “No no.   Unless … you want to …” His imagination was firing on all cylinders, wondering what it was she’d have him do to her that made her blush like that.  Whatever it was, he was sure to like it.

 “I guess I could … and you could watch … if you want to.   Should I tell you or let it be a surprise?”

 “You could tell me now.”  More breaking voice.

 Hannah leaned over and kissed the shell of his ear, her warm breath ghosting over it.  “I love your hands; they’re so strong and nimble.   Do you have talented fingers Richard?”   She suckled on his earlobe.

 “Mmm hmm.”   His trousers were decidedly too tight.

 “It’s tricky … you’ll need to get them right in there … really deep to do it right.”   She whispered.

 “Yeah.  Deep.” 

 “Should I tell you how I like it?”  She nibbled on the other lobe.

 “Mmm hmm.”  He croaked.

 “Okay.  Are you ready?”   She continued after he nodded.  “We’ll need some props.  Definitely some rope.”

 “Ahhh huhh.  Rope.  You like rope.”

 “Mmm.  Rope just makes me feel so safe.   So we’ll get some rope.”

 “Yeah.  Rope.”  His voice broke again.

 “Yes, we’ll get the rope and the ladder and I’ll climb up and clean out the eaves troughs.  The gutters are plugged and I should have cleared them a couple of months ago.   I think you’d do a better job with those great long fingers of yours but you can watch me do it instead.  I shouldn’t put you to work, not on your first visit to Casa Hannah.  It’s a _really_ dirty job.”

 His head fell back and he groaned.   “You are a vile, evil woman!  I hate you a bit right now.”

 She shook with laughter at his pathetic expression.   “You expected someone nicer?   Fool.”

 “You are a horrible little human!”

 She giggled and nodded.   She was a not a giggler by nature and it sounded foreign coming from her mouth so the very act of giggling made her giggle harder. 

 “So happy that torturing me brings you such joy.”

 “You’re too easy … and yes, it does bring a huge amount of joy.  It raises the question though, what was it you thought I was going to do with rope that turned you into a blathering idiot?”

 “I’m not speaking to you.  You’re a monster.”

 “I’m sorry.  Forgive me?”  She giggled again.

 “Oh yeah, you sound sorry.  But I’m a much better person than you are so I’ll forgive you anyway.”

 She kissed his cheek and asked, “Great, now that we’ve got that settled.  What would you like to do this evening?  Do you wanna go into Huntsville for dinner and a movie?”

 “Before or after I clean your gutters?” 

 “You don’t have to clean the gutters.  I was just yanking your chain.”

 “I know, but I will anyway; shouldn’t take more than an hour.”  Richard buzzed the top of her head and pushed her to get up.  He was in dire need of stretching his legs and shifted uncomfortably as he tried to rise.

“Seriously Rich, you don’t have to do this.”  
  
“I know, I know.  Now get up so I can go do the thing I don’t have to do.”   He dug his fingers into her sides and tickled, nearly taking flailing limbs to the head.

“Alright.  You’re a horrible man and we’re quite the pair.”  She laughed.

They pulled out the ladder and safety ropes from the garage, setting them up against the house.  Garbage can, gloves, trowel and the power nozzle on the hose and he was all set to go to town on the sludge and tree litter clogged gutters.

“You don’t have to spot me, I can do this on my own.  Why don’t you go do something girlish while I take care of this man job.”  He gave her a lopsided grin while she gagged.

“You’re disgusting!”  She shivered like she’d just stepped in a pile of vomit and pooh.  “Man job.  Pig!”

Hannah went back into the house and tidied up the few bits in the sink, wondering what to do for the next hour.   She smiled at the thoughts which sprung up.  

She strolled down the hall and chuckled as she shut the bathroom door behind her.    Hannah pulled out the basket of assorted grooming products and snickered, finding more than she hoped for.    She doffed her clothes and pulled her hair up in a tight ponytail, giggling and then giggling at the fact she was giggling _again_.

Hannah rubbed her hands together and surveyed the instruments of torture before her.  She’d assembled a flat iron, manicure kit, nail polish, face mask, tweezers, facial bleach and a waxing kit.  _Girly things ahoy!_    An hour and a half later she was plucked, waxed, bleached, buffed and polished and ready to get dressed.   Feeling smooth and silky all over, she pulled on a pair of tan capris and a sleeveless black lacy crocheted top. 

Whistling to herself she strolled outside to check on Richard’s progress only to find no trace of him and all the gear put away.  Back inside she called out, “Yoohooo.  Anybody home?”

“In here.”  Richard replied in a strained voice.

Hannah walked into the living room to find Richard bent over at the waist, holding his ankles and looking at her upside down from between his legs.

“That’s an interesting look.  Nice butt, by the way.”

He grinned which looked bizarre upside down. “Why thank you! It’s Pada-Hathsasana”   He gracefully moved arms and legs and settled down onto his knees.

“Whatchya doin’?”  She asked, amused

“Yoga.  Thought you might want me to be as flexible as possible.”  He bowed his body back to rest his fingers on the soles of his feet.  “Ustrasana, the camel pose.”

Hannah choked at the site of his torso bowed backwards.  “You better be careful, you could poke somebody’s eye out with that thing.”  She said naughtily, pointedly looking at his crotch.

“You offering to test that theory?”   He slowly lifted up, bent at the waist, tucked his head between his knees and rested his arms along his calves. “Sasangasana, the rabbit”.

Hannah choked and her eyes bugged out.  “N-no.  I’ll just leave you to your yoga.   Rabbit, huh?”

She shook her head and scooped up her computer.

Hannah settled down on a kitchen chair and brought up her email.   She’d answered a few when Richard planted a noisy kiss on her cheek, “Just gonna grab a shower.  Wanna join me? No?  Okay, your loss … you should see this arse naked!”  He laughed and strutted as he walked away.

Her throat went dry watching that little show.   She’d stake money that it not only looked good naked, but felt fantastic too.  The frisson of adrenalin rushing through her made bits and pieces tingle enough to reconsider joining him in the shower.    With a sigh she wondered if her obsession with getting into his pants was out of control.    Did she like him or the flirtation?    Buildup to The Event had taken on a life of its own, constantly present, adding a tingle to every conversation, every glance, every touch. 

She brought up Facebook and absentmindedly scrolled through her newsfeed.   Thoughts of Richard pervaded everything she tried to do.   The normal bumf couldn’t hold her attention; she wanted to show him the cute/profound/gpoy posts  and it annoyed the hell out of  her.  _At least I’m not thinking about sex which has to be an improvement._  Hannah’s friend Zelda had posted a new chapter of her Sense and Sensibilities fan fiction which was always something she enjoyed.  She opened the chapter and began reading but grew more and more frustrated as the face claims for Mr. Farris; Mr. Wickham; and Colonel Brandon all morphed into that rotter Richard.  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the improbability and disgusting corniness of it all.

She was musing over the potential methods of de-programming her swoony brain when Richard came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek receiving a blood curdling scream as thanks for his efforts.  Richard gave a shout and jumped back wondering what the hell had happened, going into full ninja attack mode, ready to take down any threat.

“Don’t DO that!  You can’t just sneak up behind someone who’s used to living alone!  You scared the crap outta me.”  Hannah held her hand over her thumping heart and gave him a stern look before breaking out laughing at the severe expression on his face.

“Don’t YOU do that!  You very nearly screamed me into the next life!”  He scowled and sat down on the chair beside her.   “So what are you doing that earns such rapt attention?”

Hannah blushed and mumbled, “Nothing much.  I was … just reading a Jane Austen fan fic.”  She was too embarrassed to look at Mr. Ferris/Wickham/Brandon.

“Must be quite the smut-fest; you’re blushing like mad.”  Richard chuckled and relaxed.

She forced herself to look up and gasped, unprepared for what she saw.  “You … you shaved.”

“Ummm … yeah … I sort of do that from time to time you know … should I not have?”  He was amused by her confusion.

“It’s just so … different.  It’s okay … you look nice like this too, I guess.”  She mumbled.

His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Thanks for that, _I guess_.”

It was Hannah’s turn to scowl.  “You know what I mean!  You don’t look like Burnt Island Richard anymore.  You look like a city guy now.   How do you manage to look so different with a swipe of a razor?  I don’t think I’d recognize you if I passed you on the street.”

He shrugged, “I dunno.  It’s a blessing and a curse I suppose.  I really don’t get recognized that often which is great for living your life but a pain in the arse for auditions.    But I’m not the only one who looks different after some time in the bath.   You look like a new woman.  What were you getting up to in there?”

“Oh, you know.  Girly stuff.   I even waxed my legs, see!”  She held up an exposed ankle for him to inspect. “No more Grizzly Adams.  I swear it was almost time to braid them.  Hmmm, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

He sniggered and lightly ran his finger across her ankle, stopping with a frown.   “It’s ... sort of … you know … sticky.”   He rubbed his finger and thumb together briskly and huffed when he was unable to get rid of the tacky mess.

“What?”  Hannah felt along her ankle and gave a sheepish chuckle.  “Umm guess I didn’t get all the wax off.  Sorry.”

“You didn’t … ah … wax … um … elsewhere, did you?”  He asked nonchalantly.

“Huh?”  She was confused for a moment.  “Oh no no no no.  No wax there.   Not on your life!  Your face though – you look weird.”

“You really are quite horrible, aren’t you?!”

“A little bit, yeah.  But I’m not boring though, eh?”  She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Oh no.  You may be many things, but boring is not one of them.  You are rather cruel and insensitive.  So, changing the subject, you look lovely.  What film are we going to see where you get to hide all of your efforts in the dark for two hours?”

She rolled her eyes.  “I don’t know, how about we surprise ourselves.  We’ll grab something to eat, wander over to the theatre and then go see whatever we’re on time for.”

“Really?  Isn’t that sort of risky?  What if it’s a terrible film? Or a genre we don’t like?”

“Okay fuddy duddy.  What genres do we not want to see?”

“Horror?  Never cared for it.”  He stated with studied calm.

“Mmm hmm.  Now does that mean slasher or scary suspenseful?  I can’t do slasher stuff either but I don’t mind thrillers.    I really hate hard core war movies.   And sports, not that fond of movies about sports.   Animation is okay but not my favourite.”  She stared off into the distance considering the types of movies she didn’t want to see.

“Oh I see.   We’ll go to any film as long as it’s comedy, drama, romance or, in a pinch, a thriller.”  He arched an eyebrow and waited for her admission.  “Something tells me you’ve already scoped it out and know exactly when to get us to the cinema to see … let me guess … a piece of romantic fluff.   How’d I do?”

Hannah laughed at him.  “No, but it’s a good idea.  Maybe I’ll try that sometime if you prove to be resistant to romantic comedies.”   She continued when he shivered and pulled a face.  “So, not a fan of the romantic comedy genre, huh?   That’s okay, you don’t have to go to every movie I see ‘cause as far as I can tell, we’re not joined at the hip.”

He snickered at that and waggled his eyebrows, “No, but we could be.”

Her expression changed and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Have you ever wondered if we’re a little obsessed with sex?”  She asked earnestly.

His eyes widened, “Ah, no not really.  Do … do you?”

“I don’t know.  It’s like we can’t have a single conversation without some kind of dirty joke or something.”  She shrugged and hoped she didn’t look as concerned as she felt.   “I don’t think a relationship has much hope if, you know, it’s only based on sex.”

Richard sat very still, thinking deeply.  He reached out to hold her hand and absent mindedly stroked the back of it with his thumb.  “You’re not looking forward to it?”  He asked quietly.

“No, no that’s not it.  I mean, yes I’m looking forward to it a lot.  A LOT.   It’s just that it seems like it’s all we think about.  I dunno … maybe I’m just being …”

“No, don’t marginalize your feelings.   I guess I am a bit of a Giganticus Perverticus.”  He chewed on the inside of his cheek and stared at her for a moment.   “I think we’d laughed at a naughty double meaning within a couple of minutes of meeting.   We were talking dirty long before we figured out we were interested in finding out if there’s something here.”  He said, pointed back and worth between them.

Hannah rested her forehead against his, “You’re absolutely right.   It’s just that … well … I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s really starting to scare me.   It’s become an … obsession.   So am I excited to get to know you or am I just excited?   I don’t even recognize myself.   I waxed!”

“But you’ve waxed before, yeah?  You had wax stuff in your bathroom.”  He suggested.

She huffed, “It was a sample that came in the mail and I never got around to throwing it out.”

Richard laughed, “That explains it.  But, you know, about sex.  Do I think about it?  Hell yes.  I hope we don’t see the outside of my flat next weekend.   Is it all I think on?  Well, no.  I also think about eating, sleeping, farting and scratching.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and chuckled.   He took her other hand in his too, holding both of them and kissing her knuckles.

“I love making you laugh and making you blush and making you roll your eyes at me.  So I tease you about sex a lot because it’s always good for a reaction.   It’s not all I want, if that’s what you’re afraid of.   I’d never try to get a part in my film for a bit of fluff, or offer to sell my New York flat because my bit of fluff doesn’t like the city.  And I definitely, without a quark of doubt, would NOT have stopped that little adventure on my lap in favour of waiting if sex was all I wanted.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.  “I want much more than that, I think.”

She looked at him sweetly and kissed his cheek.  “That’s nice.” 

He coughed and looked amused, “Nice?  That’s nice?  Gee, dismissive much?”

“No, don’t be silly.  Of course it’s nice.  It’s good.  I’m really glad you told me.   But it’s not really what I meant, as nice as it was for you to say.”

“Oh? Should I ask?”

She sighed and tried to collect her thoughts.  “You’ve been a paragon of virtue … well, mostly. It’s me that’s been obsessed.   Aren’t you worried I’m just lusting after your body?  I mean, it might have been me who said to wait until we know each other better but maybe I was just trying to make myself look good.   After all, it was me grinding on your lap and it was you who stopped us.    And it was you who didn’t let it go too far last night … or this morning.   Clearly I have no self-control ... or maybe I do but all I see you as is a walking sex machine and I’m just doing warm up exercises so that you don’t burn out.”

His tongue bled from biting it so hard.  “I know you’re serious and these are very real concerns to you.   You’re going to have to give me a minute because in my Neanderthal brain, well … never mind.  Please come here and let me think a minute.”  He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against his chest, stroking her smooth hair.

“I don’t think I’m … I shouldn’t have said anything … you must think I’m an idiot.”

“Idiot doesn’t enter into it.   I think you’re very brave, braver than I’ve ever been.   Promise me,   you will never hold back; that you’ll always speak up just as you are.  Promise?” He smiled as she shrugged.   “You know—“  He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?  What were you going to say?”  Hannah tilted her head and squinted at him.

“I don’t think I’ve, you know, heard a woman say that she wants sex more than I do.”  He grinned at her.  “I quite like it a lot.”

“Pffft.  It’s not that women don’t like sex.  Women just don’t like _bad_ sex.  Well, I guess unless you’re asexual and then I guess sex doesn’t have much appeal.”

“And you’re certain you’re not asexual?” 

Hannah choked, “You’re just as dumb as a sack of hammers aren’t you?!  Good grief, I’m falling for a himbo.”

“Hehehe.  You’re falling for me.”

“Yep.  You’re so dense light bends around you.”  She pulled his face to her and gave him a loud smacking smooch.   She was puzzled and wiggled around a little, surprised at what she felt, “Is that--?”

“Hehehe.  Yeah.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Hehehe.  You’re in my lap.   Any questions?”

“Maybe we’re both kinda perverted?    And there’s more here than just lust?”

“Darling, I can’t speak for you but I know there’s more here for me than just lust.   I know lust and it’s not this terrifying.”   He kissed her forehead.

“You’re terrified?  Of me?”  She squeaked.

“Petrified.”  He nodded.

“Yeah right.   I’m the least scary person on the planet.”   She dismissed his silly thoughts.

“Do you remember what happened when we shook hands?”

Hannah giggled, “Yeah, yes I do.”   Touching him continued to make her tingle, if anything more so.

“I’ve not had a reaction like that to anyone.  And then we spent a few days not really liking each other but the tingles didn’t go away.   When we discovered how to talk without making each other go spare, I sort of felt like this was different.   I’ve never been sure about relationships, but I’m sure I want to take this as far as it can go and then push further.  And that’s terrifying.”

“Richard, we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks …”

“Four and a half months equivalent!”   He set her hands in her lap and cradled her face, “I’m going to push, but I won’t rush.”  He kissed her slowly and deeply, breaking away abruptly, “Hehehe, I’ll push but not rush, hehehe.”

“Oh good grief, no wonder all I can think about is sex.”  She arched an eyebrow and kissed the end of his nose.     “Now, unless you want me to explode, I better get off Mt. Olympus and walk it off.”  She patted his arm and stood up to hop off his lap.

“Not so fast.  Kiss me first, and make it a good one, it has to carry me over the whole evening.”  His large hands clasped her by the waist and pulled her back down onto his lap.   She gasped as he directed his full smoulder at her, feeling her limbs go numb and all the blood rush from her head.

“You’re not allowed to do that.  That’s cheating!”  She croaked.

His lips twitched and he smirked, “What?  What did I do?  I’m just sitting here, quietly hoping for a wee kiss.”  

“Lying liar McLie-Lie-Pants.”  She kissed him quickly and chastely.  “You’ve just destroyed my panties.”

Richard pouted and made puppy dog eyes at her.  “That’s it?  That’s the only kiss I get?  Please may I have another?  I’ll be good.”  His sweet puppy eyes transformed into those of a filthy dog in heat. “Or maybe I’ll be bad, I should think you’d like that better.”

Hannah groaned and grabbed his face again, “Shut up.”   She kissed him fiercely, nipping at his bottom lip and chuckling at his moan as he seized her in a crushing embrace.   She laughed and threw her head back, enjoying the sounds coming from him as he kissed her neck and made promises of the ways and places he’d kiss her when they were in his flat.  

“I can’t wait to feel our naked bodies slide along each other.”  She whispered and licked the edge of his teeth.  “I can’t wait to feel you on top of me.”  She stroked his tongue with hers.  “I can’t wait to feel you underneath me.”  She sucked his tongue into her mouth.  “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” He whimpered and she rolled her hips slowly, over and over again until he was writhing beneath her, pushing up against her and holding her waist, struggling to control her teasing rhythm.     

“Fuck.  Are you trying to kill me?”  He ground out between clenched teeth.  “If you can’t wait, we could …”

Hannah grinned evilly, “That was just the kiss you asked for to carry you through the evening.  Ready to go to dinner?”

“Wot?   You’ve got to be kidding me.”  He grunted and closed his eyes trying to calm his body`s reaction to her.

“That will teach you not to pull out the smoulder if you won’t follow through!”  She brushed her hands together and stood up, smirking.   As soon as he couldn’t see her face she let her own agony show.   What a stupid lesson she’d just tried to teach him, she was tortured beyond anything she’d done to him.   “Take a minute if you need one.”   She smiled coyly over her shoulder and blew him a little kiss as she sauntered out of the room, swaying her hips.  She turned around and couldn’t stop her eyes from crossing at the twisted knots of unmet needs which were nearly crippling.   She hoped against hope that he’d go lock himself in the bathroom for a few minutes so she could find some privacy elsewhere.

She walked out to the back yard and down the path through the woods.   She was out of sight of the house when she heard Richard holler.

“Hannah?  You out here?”  His deep voice was easy to hear, even in the woods.

“Yeah, be right there.”  She shouted back.  _Dammit dammit dammit dammit._   She leaned against a tree and closed her eyes.   _One minute.  That’s all I would have needed, just one minute.  Dammit.  Blue ovaries are no fun!_    With a sigh she opened her eyes and started back to the house, laughing when the back yard came into clear view.  There in the middle of the lawn, rubbing its furry little face with its furry little paws was a furry little rabbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some great photos but can't get them uploaded today ... I'll let you know when they're ready.


	31. Wandering Toes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday night

Hannah and Richard thoroughly enjoyed their dinner at Spencer’s Tall Pines in Huntsville.   They talked about all of their favourite meals; foods which made them never want to eat again; childhood comfort foods; and the worst kitchen disasters they ever created.   If it had to do with food, they talked about it, eliciting laughs, groans, moans and low sounds of revulsion depending on the particular detail of the moment.  

“I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to go out for dinner and not worry about … you know … um … being recognized.”  He scrunched up his eyes and rubbed his forehead, “Good lord, that sounds appalling.  I’m not really that full of myself, am I?”

“Not at all.  You’re the least famousy famous person I’ve ever met.”   She gently laid her hand on top of his and gave it a little squeeze.   “Well, you are full of yourself though.   You seem to think I’m just putty in your hands.”  She smiled and arched one eyebrow.

“Oh well, that.  Yes, there is that, but really, you only want me for my height!  I know you, once your gutters are cleaned and I’ve fetched what you need from the top shelves, you’ll throw me over like yesterday’s news.”   He sighed, overdoing the forlorn look more than a little.

“Oh drat, my evil plan has been discovered.   I guess you’ll just have to start hiding things on the top shelf so that you’ll be indispensable.”

“Ah ha.  And you’re on to  _my_ evil plan.  I’ve been hiding things all along.”   He looked like a mad scientist about to conquer the world.   “Oh, how are we doing with time?  When should we leave for the cinema?”  He asked.

“Lemme see.  We’re not supposed to look, ya know.  We’re just supposed to show up and let the randomness of the universe direct us to a movie.  But it does feel kinda late.  Maybe …”  She looked at her cell phone and cursed under her breath.  “Dammit, it’s after nine.   I think we’re too late.” She continued muttering a string of curses under her breath.  By the time they finished their meal, paid the bill and drove across town they would definitely be too late.

“No worries.  That just means we have time to savour a decadent pudding.  Fancy a bit of chocolate?”   He grinned and widened his eyes hopefully.

“You’re sure you don’t mind that we can’t go?”  She asked, surprised.

He nodded and focused on the dessert card the server had left on their table.  “Maybe we could each have something chocolate and then there’d be two kinds and we could switch.  Two sounds even better, yeah?”   He looked up to see her staring at him with brows knit together.  “Wot?  Too gluttonous?  Only one pudding and we share that?”

She shook her head and smiled, “No.  Two sounds great.  It sounds perfect.”

“What’s that look for?”  He asked, his turn to be puzzled.

“Oh nothing.”  She chuckled, “Actually it’s because it really is nothing.   You don’t mind that our plans got messed up and we won’t be able to see the movie.  Nothing in the frustration or anger department at all.”  She grinned from ear to ear and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

 “Thank you for that.  Not quite sure what it’s for, but I’ll never begrudge a kiss.”   He stared at her and it took a minute for him to understand her goofy grin.   “Ahhh.  Zombies?”   She nodded happily and he leaned over to kiss her.  “Right.  Champagne and two choccie puddings.”

 Hannah rolled her eyes and shook her head, “We can’t have champagne celebrations every time I slay a zombie!”

 “Why not?  We’ll buy it by the caseload.   Champagne for breakie, dinner and supper … and tea and snack and while watching tele.  We’ll bathe in the stuff.”  

 She laughed out loud, “You’re incorrigible.”  She leaned over to kiss his other cheek.

 “It’s all part of my charm.”  He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, “Now, you must put me at my ease … will it be the chocolate soufflé; the mousse gateau; the triple chocolate Irishcream cheesecake; or the Jellowith fake whip cream?   Choose wisely – one of these is a deal breaker!”

 “There’s no Jello you twit!”

 “Good thing, too.  I can’t abide someone who considers that to be an appropriate end to a fine meal.”   He shook his head gravely.

 “Whatever.   Stop talking like you’ve just walked out of a Jane Austen novel.”

 He clutched his chest, “You wound me, madam.  I was merely doing my duty in wooing you.”  He certainly appeared prostrate. “But I have offended you.  I will escort you home and take my leave of you.   You shall not be further imposed upon.”

 “Oh shut up and kiss me.”   She laughed.

 Richard pressed her open palm against his lips and kissed it sweetly, never taking his eyes off her.  Her smile softened and he flicked his tongue against the sensitive creases. 

 Hannah gasped and her eyes darkened.  Holding her hand in both of his, he turned it over and kissed each finger individually, surreptitiously tonguing between them and sucking on the pads of her fingers.   Never dropping her hand or her gaze, he briefly fumbled under the table and Hannah hissed as his foot slowly and methodically inched its way up her leg.

 She gulped and her eyes darted around the room, wondering from which corner they’d be caught.  Only one other couple was left in the restaurant; long cloths covered the tables; romantic lighting also known as ‘what are they trying to hide in our food because we can barely see it’; and the servers had disappeared, presumably into the kitchen.

 His foot kept to its path, slowly rubbing and pressing against her ankle, her calf, her knee, her thigh.  She gasped again when his toes wiggled their way underneath her bum, sliding in and out of her chair.   Through the layers of clothing she could feel the delicious pressure of his big toe circling, kneading, rubbing her and all the while his mouth caused paroxysms of its own on her hand.   His tongue mirrored the sensuous dance of his toes leaving no chance for her to do anything but link the movements in her mind.  He created such powerful images and sensations; she felt his mouth where his toes were, driving her higher in an insane spiral of fear, need and pleasure.

 Hannah was dazed and helpless as he held her eyes, kissing and sucking on her fingers, and toeing her under the table.  She gripped the table with her free hand and struggled to calm her breathing.  Every lick between her fingers was a lick between her sensitive folds; every time he suckled on the pad of her pinky, drawing it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue she felt it perfectly between her legs.

 He chuckled low and naughty as her thighs gripped his foot holding it tighter than a vice.  He was rather thankful his head wasn’t where his foot was because surely she would have crushed his skull.   He smirked at the thought of ways to keep his head in one piece while bringing that look back to her eyes.   It was pure joy, need, pleasure and agony rolled up into one blissful expression and he wanted to put that look on her face every single day.  _Hehehe, several times a day._

 He pulled his foot away from her, trailing it back down her leg and she whimpered, looking at him desperately.  “I should stop, shouldn’t I?”   He drawled.

 “Ye – no … don’t stop ... I mean … yes?” Hannah was muddled and her body trembled in resentful protest against the loss of his attentions.  “I … umm … I need to use the restroom.”  She tried to pull her hand back but he wouldn’t let go, biting the pad of her index finger hard enough to make her hiss.

 “Oh no you don’t.   You’re staying right here where I can see you.   There’ll be no flicking the bean here, my dear.  At least, not by anyone but me.”  He whispered so low she thought she misheard him.

 “Oh, you’re a nasty, evil, vile man, aren’t you!?   THIS is what you call wooing?”  She sighed heavily, resigned to nothing but frustration and discomfort for the immediate future.

 “Think of it as … as a love letter filled with sweet promises of my intentions; illustrating my concern for your … tender feelings …” He gave her a smoulder that made Sir Guy look like a rank amateur and dropped his voice a full octave, “and, for your pleasure.”

 Hannah tried desperately to regain some small measure of composure.  She dug her fingernails into her free hand leaving small crescent moon marks on her skin.  She bit her tongue and decided the pain wasn’t worth the distraction.   _He keeps making promises.  Okay, but what if he can’t keep them?_

 “Do you ever worry that reality won’t equal the build up?  I mean, for several days we’ve been acting like sexperts who’re gonna rock each other’s world but … well …. what if it’s terrible?”

 He stopped teasing her fingers and stared at her.  “Do you think it’s going to be terrible?”

She huffed, “I don’t know.  But what if it is?   What if I do something you hate or if I accidentally crush something or head butt your parts or what if you develop a sudden case of PE or ED?  I, by the way, would be just fine … after all … you still have your hands and your face.”   She turned bright red and laughed, trying to lighten her thoughts.  “And apparently your feet are in on the game too.”

“Well … if you do something I hate, I promise to tell you straight away.  I guess, statistically speaking the PE or ED could happen … but … I’m not concerned.   Hehehe, let’s not forget that little lap dance!  As for the rest of my body … I fully intend on making use of every available micrometre of both of our bodies.   So whatever you have in mind for my hands, face and feet is fair game.”   He chuckled.  “The very first time?  It might be a bit quick … you’re right there is quite a bit of … anticipation … but as long as you don’t have a one orgasm limit,  ~~but~~ I’m quite certain we can figure out how our bits fit without too much trouble.”  

 “But what if they don’t?”

 He looked at her incredulously and was about to laugh when he noticed she was far more serious than she was letting on, “I’ll tell you what.   Why don’t we go home and take off all our clothes then you can see if there’s anything that scares you.   I’m pretty impressive, if I do say so myself, but not scary I think, no one’s ever run away screaming at any rate.   Then we can spend some time in pre-production; I can show you how my body works and you can show me how yours works, we can run lines together, block some scenes.”

 Hannah’s eyes bugged out and her chin dropped.  She didn’t care how talented his foot was or how amazing it felt to kiss him, their first time naked together was not going to be her showing him how she masturbates or vice versa.  She opened her mouth to offer a biting commentary on the chances of his suggestion happening in relation to pigs flying and hell freezing over but she looked at his hopeful expression and shut it quickly.  

 She chewed on her lip and withdrew her hand from his.   _What if watching is a major thing for him?  What if that’s what he wants and will be let down if I don’t want to do it?_   The walls were closing in on her and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.  What did she really know about him?  _He could be as kinky as fuck.  I don’t know; I just don’t know.    How in the world can I satisfy a man like him?_

 “Hey, where’d you go?  You disappeared on me there for a minute; the lights were on but no one was home.  Hannah, I was teasing … I just wanted to make you laugh … I wasn’t serious ... unless that’s something you want to do … sure, we can do that  … maybe not next weekend though … Hannah?   Maybe I should go back to the Jane Austen courting … it was …”

 She almost smiled and her heart melted a little at the confusion on his face.  “I wish I was bold and confident and sure of things but mostly I’m not.  I keep pissing in my brain … second guessing everything and thinking too much … sometimes I’m a catastrophizer.   It’s like everything in hinging on next weekend and what if I screw it up?”

 “Hehe, screw it up?   Isn’t that the whole idea?  Sorry, couldn’t resist.  The only thing hinging on next weekend is a few orgasms … how does 12 sound?  A nice even dozen?  You’re worried but I know a secret.”  He smirked at her.

 “A … a secret?”  She was scared to find out what that secret might be.

 “Mmmhmm.  It’s concerning your little lap dance the other day.”

 “You keep talking about that like it’s some kind of sign from the universe.  What if those are the only moves I’ve got?”  She demanded.

 “Well then we know at least one of us will cum.”  He mumbled under his breath.

 “Huh?  Pardon me, didn’t catch that.  What did you say?”  She asked.

 “Nothing.  Does it work to simply say ‘trust me’?  Because, you should.  I mean, really, really should.”  He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

 “Frickin’ zombies.”  She muttered.   “Just promise me that you don’t have any great expectations, okay?”

 He grinned, “No worries.  Same goes for you, easy on the expectations, yeah?  It’s been a while but I think I remember the basics.”

 “It’s been a while?”  She was intrigued and liked the sound of that.

 “Yeah, a couple of months anyway.” He shrugged.  “But I don’t think my bits have rusted yet.”

 Hannah groaned, “That’s not ‘a while’.  That’s like …  last week.   Try three years.  _That’s_ a while.”

 “Three years?  Seriously?   People can go that long?  Ahhhhhh … that explains your little solo parties.”    He teased.

 “Oh shut up.   So I think I’ve regained my virginity, so what?  Bugger off.”  She grinned.

 “So cheesecake and mousse gateau while we’re waiting for the soufflé then?”

 “Sure, why not?!   If you can’t have the D then have the D-sert.”   Hannah smirked and then pinked up.

“See, you have these doubts but when you give in to your real nature, you’re a proper little pervert.  I don’t know … you might be out of my league!  Will you be gentle with me?”   He smirked and batted his eyelashes.

 She snorted and was about to taunt him but the server appeared at her elbow.   Richard ordered the desserts and a bottle of the best Champagne on their limited menu, Mumm’s Cordon Rouge.  

 “It’s not Krug, but it’s drinkable.”  Richard nodded as he took a sip as the waitress poured a glass.

 “Are you for real?  You insufferable snob!  Listen to yourself.  ‘Ooooo, it’s not Krug but it’s drinkable.’  Give me strength.”   She groaned.

 He scrunched his eyes together and ducked his head.  “That was sort of snotty, wasn’t it?!   I probably deserve a bollocksing.   Do your worst.”

 “Hey, I know it’s not the top champagne but it’s better than Presto Prosecco!  It’s Champagne for pete’s sake!   You are so hoity toity!”

 “I do like Champagne, so sue me.  I’ve got my favourites.  Soundslike you have yours too.”

 “Well, I do like La Grande Dame.”  She shrugged.

 “Ohhh.  So that’s how it is.  We have a rivalry between the house of Veuve Cliquot and the house of Krug.  You know, there are only two kinds of people in the world.”

 “I shudder to ask …” Hannah shook in mock terror.

 “Yes.   Those who like Krug and those who don’t.  Which are you?  And know this, much depends upon your answer.”  He smirked.

 “Oh, Krug is fine.  I’d drink it.”  She smiled sweetly.  “If there wasn’t any battery acid available.”

 He gasped and looked like he was going to faint.  “Out you heathen wench.  Get out of my sight!”

 Hannah laughed, “For a second there I thought you were going to go all Hamlet on me and say ‘get thee to a nunnery’.”

 “You know, it’s sort of funny.  I’ve done Hamlet but I didn`t get to say that line, not as such.”

 “Ummm … isn’t that one of the biggies?  Right up there with ‘to be or not to be’?” She was confused.

 “Well, it was a novel based on Hamlet.  Sort of a fan fiction I guess you’d say.  I did the narration of the audio book, it was quite fun to do, aside from Ophelia who was a bugger to find the voice for.”

 Hannah smiled and asked, “Tell me all about the book.”   She was pleased to distract him away from his silly views on Champagne and hoped to keep his mind busy enough that his feet wouldn’t wander.

 “What?  What are you at?  It was a tragedy – you’re not supposed to be smiling!”

 “You.  You’re a whole new person when you’re talking about something you love.  It’s really nice to get a peek into that, you know, behind the veneer.” She took a sip of Champagne and another bite of mousse cake.

 “What’s the supposed to mean?  I have a veneer and am repressed?”  His fork dangled mid-air, forgotten, “Is that what you think of me?” 

 “No!  Well … yes, in a way.   But everyone has veneers, don’t they? We all have different faces for different situations; I’m kinda taken with all of yours, by the way.   I’m different at work than I am with my cousins and different again with my best friend.  I just haven’t seen this kind of excited, passionate face yet.” She smiled softly, “I would love to see you in a play, to feel the energy radiating off of you while you’re doing something you absolutely love.   The way you talked about Hamlet … you coulda swept me away.   I might be biased, but I’m beginning to think you might be a very great actor.”

 She was so sincere he struggled not to laugh.   “I’m a working actor.   Which means I work at it because I’m always afraid I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.  Like this movie about Tom – what was I thinking?”

 “I was thinking the opposite, like it’s gonna be too easy for you.  Reading the story with you yesterday, I think it’s a cakewalk. Yeah, it’s a cool mystery and Tom’s an interesting guy and it’s painfully sad about Winnie and the baby … but really? Somehow I don’t think you’re gonna break a sweat doing this.”

 “This may have been more about overcoming my fear of deep, dark water than anything.  If you don’t think it will take massive acting chops to make Tom breathe while I’m floating in Canoe Lake, you’re badly mistaken.”  He shook his head, wondering for the umpteenth millionth time about what he’d gotten himself into.

 “You’re in the canoe for 99% of the water scenes.  That’s good, isn’t it?”  Hannah tried to cheer him up.

 “Yeah, but I have to drown, remember. As in sink to the bottom of the lake!”   He moaned.

 “Well, can you take comfort in the fact that it’s only a couple of minutes and then you’ve got everything else out of the water?”   She asked hopefully.

 He looked at her and shook his head, “Ahh.  You wouldn’t know … of course … when you’re making a film one scene can take hours if not days to shoot, doing take after take after take.   For the drowning, who knows how long it will be.   I could be in the lake for a week!”

 She put her hand on his and didn’t try to hide the worry she felt, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 Richard sighed and shook his head again, “You already have, really.  With the whole trip up to Burnt Island and Otterslide Lake you’ve helped me conquer my fear of being on the water.  That is a very big deal for me and you have no idea the weight you’ve taken off my shoulders for it.”

 “But that’s not _in_ the water, right?  Being in that lake is gonna be pretty bad, isn’t it?”

 He nodded, and stared at her hand on his as she gently stroked the soft spot by his thumb.  “You’ll be there when we have to shoot the drowning scene, won’t you?”   He asked without looking up.

 “If I am allowed, there’s nowhere else I could be.”   She brought his hand up and kissed his palm, resting her cheek in it.  

 Richard was about to speak when the server approached with their soufflé. 

 “Your soufflé.  Be careful, the dish is still very hot.   Would you care for anything else?  More Champagne perhaps?”  The waitress asked.

 “No thank you.  This is lovely.”  He smiled and nodded to the young woman.   Turning back to Hannah, “You’re a bit of an anomaly aren’t you?”  He took a bite of the soufflé and closed his eyes revelling in sensory pleasure as he tasted the delicious chocolate and tried to let it, and her, be the focus of his thoughts rather than joining Tom on the bottom of Canoe Lake.

 She chuckled, “Well I like to think so.   I tried normal once and it was the worst ten minutes of my life!   Why, dare I ask, do _you_ think I’m weird?”   Hannah mirrored Richard’s reaction to the soufflé, the lighter than air chocolate was heavenly.

 “Oh it’s not that you’re weird; you’re just different.   I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who was not only interested in eating a whole dessert, but was then keen to have half of another one.   I love that you love food.”  He explained.

 She gave him a bemused little smile, “You know, it’s not like I eat like this all the time.  There are days on end that I am absolutely disciplined.   I just figure that when there’s something really, really good there’s no point in scrimping or denying yourself.    And it’s entirely possible that I might do a little extra exercise to balance out this wonderful indulgence.  Maybe you could help with that?”

 His eyebrows shot up, “You’d like me to help you burn calories?”   He took another bite of the soufflé, slowly pushing the spoon in and out of his mouth and licking every last trace of chocolate from the utensil with the tip of his tongue.

 “Perverticus, Perverticus.  Get your mind out of the gutter!  I was thinking we could go for a stroll tonight and maybe a power walk in the morning.”

 “Of course.  Happy to.”  No matter how much he knew, and agreed, they should wait until the following weekend before shagging each other’s brains out, he had to admit he was a titch crestfallen that she hadn’t meant they could do a bit of the nudge-nudge-wink-wink-say-no-more that night.  _I’m up and down like a freaking yo-yo!_

 “There’s a nice trail along the shore of Lake of Bays just down the road from my house which will be great for the morning.  Tonight we should stick to the road though.  There are lots of skunks out this time of year and I’m not interested in getting sprayed.”

 “Yeah. Skunks are not on my wish list either.”  He poured another glass of Champagne for himself and tipped the bottle towards Hannah’s glass.

 “No more for me thanks.  Gotta drive and I’ve had a full glass as it is.”

 The server returned and Richard paid the bill, thanking her for her service.  She smiled at him, holding his eye a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary which made Hannah laugh.

 When they got into Hannah’s car she turned to him and grinned, “She thinks you’re hot.”

 “Who?  No she doesn’t!”

 “Oh yes she does.  She blushed when you smiled at her.” She giggled.

 “You’re exaggerating.  The lights were so low in there you wouldn’t have been able to tell if she pulled a face let alone blushed.”   He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

 “I’m telling ya, she thinks you’re hot.”

 “It _was_ very warm in there, I should have worn a lighter shirt.”

 “Not that kind of hot!   You’re genuinely uncomfortable with this, aren’t you?”  She asked.

 “I just don’t understand it, that’s all.  People react to an image they have, but it’s not really me.” He sighed and shook his head.

 Hannah couldn’t decide what to make of his reaction.   “Um… I’ve seen you in the morning with greasy hair and terrible clothes and morning breath and I think you’re unbelievably hot.    I’m pretty sure I don’t have a glossy, Hollywood image of you, my friend.”

 “Yeah well, you’re biased and you’ve probably taken one too many paddles to the back of the head so your opinion doesn’t count.”  

 She looked at him again, and watched his awkward fidgeting.   “I am very biased.  I think you are so beautiful on the inside that it’s leaked outside all over your face.  You’re just a mess of beauty.  Gorgeous with gunk of the soul, that’s what you are!”

 His head snapped up and he laughed at her, “Wow.  I had forgotten how empathetic and sensitive you are.  Gunk of the soul?   Seriously?  Have you lost the plot?”

 “Do we really need to go through what constitutes appropriate events requiring empathy?  I thought you’d learned your lesson last week!”  She teased.

 They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both preoccupied with their own thoughts.

 “Are you really that weirded out by being considered attractive?”  Hannah asked tentatively.

 “I just don’t get it.  I’m odd looking – every single feature on my face is misshapen or too big or too small.  I’ve these stupid lines on my forehead and my nose, don’t even get me started about my nose, and my lips are fairly well non-existent, but my ears make up for them and look like they belong to an elf!”

 “Oh for Pete’s sake.  Are you serious?   I’m sorry but I’m not buying this load of crap.  I had to look you up on imdb to find out what you were in so I could watch something of yours and don’t you dare tell me you don’t understand why anyone would think you’re uber attractive. I saw those pictures!  You are scary hot and I think you know it!   No one could take photos like that and think they’re ugly!  Seriously?!”   She scolded him as she laughed.

 “It’s all photographers’ tricks.   They airbrush and texturize and recolour and photoshop the hell out of me.” He countered.

 “Hunny, I’m a photographer, or at least I was, and I know what’s the sitter, what’s the camera, and what’s edited.   When you turn your eyes onto someone, it is earth shattering.  You’ve got this ‘still waters run deep’ thing going on which just drips off of you and … and … you’re humungously gorgeous.   I, personally, prefer how you look when you’re … oh never mind … you won’t believe me anyway.”

 “What?  When?  What do you prefer? It sounds very naughty.”  He grinned.

 “Oh no.  It’s nothing.   I’m just biased and have taken one too many paddles to the back of the head.”   She grinned and refused to say another word on the matter.

 They arrived at Hannah’s house and got ready to go for a walk.   Donning long pants, long sleeve shirts and gallons of mosquito repellent they embarked on a skunk avoiding adventure.  An hour and a half later they collapsed, sticky and tired, on the couch.

 “Me first for the shower?”  Hannah asked.

 “Yeah, alright.  I’m just gonna check my email.”  He picked up his iPhone and waved her off.

 Showered and changed into night clothes, they trundled off to bed, quietly talking before rolling into their spooning positions.

 “It’s been a pretty big day.”  Hannah smiled. “Zombies, Champagne, death scenes, scripts, gutters, narrowly avoiding skunks …”

 He chuckled, “Yeah, it has been that. And we barely missed killing each other only once or twice which I would say is a significant step forward.”   He smiled and pulled her tighter against his chest.

 Hannah turned to look up at him and he kissed her forehead.  “This,” she said, “this is my favourite look.” And she kissed him sweetly before turning over and pulling his arms around her to sleep snug against him, which was also her favourite.


	32. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday morning

_He was late and he hated being late.  He had to get to the meeting or his whole life would blow apart at the seams.  But it was like taking one step forward and two steps back; everything was conspiring against him.   He forgot his satchel; his shoelace came undone; the phone rang; he couldn’t find his keys; the light burnt out and it was too dark to find the door; and on and on.  No matter what he tried to do, he kept sliding back, further away from where he needed to be.   He was frustrated and felt the icy fingers of fear snake their way around his ankles, making him stumble and loose direction.  The faster he went, the slower his progress.  He pushed hard and cleared the building, making small headway before he fell off the edge of the sidewalk into a bottomless sink hole.  He fell hard, fast and far through misty miasma, much farther than he should have, farther than logic explained.  He splashed into a cloying, fetid lake; falling, falling, falling.  Just hold on, just hold on, you will be fine.  He searched everywhere but couldn’t see the surface or a light to swim toward; twisting and turning in desperation to find air and a way out.  His lungs burned, he couldn’t breathe with the putrid slime, holding him down, pulling him down, suffocating him, taking him further and further away from his nearly forgotten meeting.   His legs tangled in something strong, something gripping him, pinning him, pulling him down far away from safety, far away from hope.   He writhed and thrashed trying to break free, to reach the surface, running out of time, his chest squeezed in a vice and his lungs caught fire with each silent scream.  He wasn’t going to make it, he was going to die in the deadly sweetness and his rotting corpse would disappear in obscurity._

He woke up in a cold sweat and almost kicked Hannah in an effort to shake her feet and legs off of him.   She had been snuggled up against his back with her ankles entwined with his and he was suddenly repulsed by the feeling of being shackled to her as if she were the vice squeezing the life out of him in his dream, as if she were the cloying sweetness he was drowning in.   He shrank away from her, wanting to scream as the vestiges of the nightmare clung to his fevered mind.  _Drowning?  Why does it have to be drowning?_

He had too much on his mind.  _Is Neve ok?   What’s going to happen to the film?  Will they replace her?   Who will I get stuck with?_ He hated doing those intimate scenes with actresses he didn’t like.   _What was I thinking, offering to get Hannah on as an extra? Have I learned nothing? A couple of days in a beautiful place with my life in somebody else’s hands, and all of a sudden I’m simpering idiot?  Fuck._    He neither wanted nor needed the sort of tension which always popped up when they were together.  He didn’t want tension in his life but more importantly he most certainly didn’t want it at work.

 _What the hell am I doing?   I’ve got myself tangled up with a woman who will never survive in my world, she’s busy fighting her own demons and will only pull me down._   His career was experiencing the best momentum it ever had and he didn’t have the time or inclination to mollycoddle someone, no matter how many times they made him laugh or how nicely they warmed his bed.

Richard carefully rose from bed and left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.   He pulled on his running gear and quietly slipped out of the house, desperately needing to get away; away from the mess he’d made of things, to think, to breathe.  _Damn, the iPod’s dead; no music._   He stretched and warmed up his body, finding none of the usual comfort in his routine.

 _Hannah was right about so many things.  Why didn’t I listen to her?   She was right about shipboard romances; she was right about us only knowing each other for two weeks. She questioned everything and all I could do was sell her on a fantasy.  She was right about having at least a few days apart before mixing sex into the equation.   Well, that was a bit of a stretch; sex has been there, hovering between us, since we first laid eyes on each other.  But she was right about it all and I’ve bollocksed it, badly._     As much as he didn’t want the millstone of her troubles hanging around his neck he also didn’t want to hurt her further – _lord knows she has enough issues as it is._

 _Was I really so horny that I latched onto the first available person?_   _I fucking offered to sell my house in New York because she doesn’t like the city.  What kind of a berk does that? A part in the film?  I must have drowned in one of those lakes and now I’m in hell._    He was frustrated and furious with himself for involving an innocent woman in a bloody delusional romantic flight of fancy.   She was no worldly groupie who was up for a few shags and a ‘see ya later, love’.   And she would certainly never be his Toronto port o’call.  He had no idea how to extricate himself from this mess without hurting her terribly.  _But I don’t really want to,do I? I want her.  Part of me needs her … but it’s hopeless.  I’m acting like a tool and she’s only ever been honest … and funny and smart and sexy and sweet and … how has everything gone so pear shaped? Fucking nightmares!_

He was having a nightmare but this time he was awake.  He was drowning, being pulled down and unable to breathe; his freedom and the nomadic life he worked so hard to build slipping through his fingers because he jumped in without looking, without thinking.  He didn’t want to think about it, he needed a break from the shit in his head.   Each footfall pounding the pavement was a hammer pounding the dread from his mind.   He pushed his body hard and fast trying to outrun the guilt and foreboding chasing him, dragging him down, down, down.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Hannah woke and yawned, stretching to reach for Richard’s warmth.   She opened her eyes surprised to find he wasn’t there.   _Sunday mornings should be spent lounging in bed and letting the body take itsgood old time rising to meet the day._   She shrugged it off and padded into the bathroom, meeting her waking body’s most urgent needs.   With a quick brush of her teeth and hair, and an ear to ear grin, she smiled and trundled out of the bathroom in search of His Highness.

She was surprised not to smell coffee, as necessary as air for Richard, just as it was to her.   _No  coffee and no Richard in the kitchen. Hmmmpf_    She peeked around the corner into the living room to see if maybe he was reading but no joy there either.   He wasn’t in the back yard, the front yard, the garage or the guest room.   She’d never shown him the cellar and he had no reason to go down there anyway.

“Richard?  You here?  Where’d ya go?”  She called out several times and wrote off her bemusement to simple curiosity.  Her car was where she left it the night before and nothing seemed to be out of place.  She made a pot of coffee and decided to take a shower while she was waiting, feeling the first niggles of concern creeping in.

A quick shower and she was ready to face the day, certain she’d find him relaxing in the kitchen.   She pulled on her Monday Best trousers and shirt, smiling at the subconscious use of her Mom’s phrase to describe the second string clothing options – _nice clothes, but not your Sunday Best, dear._

Tossing her pajamas and towels into the laundry hamper she figured it was as good as a time as any to pop a load into the washing machine and so she scooped out a load of mediums.   She went in search of Richard’s dirty clothes and added them the pile noticing his runners were gone and an idea dawned on her, _he’s gone for a run_.

The bounce returned to her step and all concerns evaporated as she pressed the start button on the washer and turned to go in search of a little something to cook up for breakfast.   She was humming and whisking a bowl of eggs when the screen door banged and she heard his footsteps in the hallway.   Smiling she turned to greet him only to find he wasn’t there.   Surprised she peeked around the corner to see the back of him disappear into the bathroom.  

Hannah shrugged and thought, _he must need the can really badly to not even say hello_.   She smiled and considered how he might make it up to her with extra hugs and extra smooches. They only had a few hours before he had to leave for Toronto and she fully intended to make the best use of them.

Waiting for Richard took longer than anticipated.   He was having a very long shower and she snickered at the thought of offering to help him with that. _Oh, I’d dearly love to but my hormones and my heart needed to have a breather before we take that kind of step.  I haven’t been thinking straight around him and that’s just dumb._ She wondered if five days would be enough to come down off the endorphin cloud she was floating on. 

She dumped the garbage, washed spots off the window, tidied the spice shelf, changed the table cloth and transferred the wash to the dryer while waiting for her silly boyfriend to make his appearance.   _Pffft – boyfriend.  Can’t believe I have a boyfriend. What am I?  Fourteen?_ He’d been in there nearly an hour and those tendrils of concern were creeping back up her spine.   _Is he ill?  Did he hurt himself on his run?_   

She didn’t hear him enter the kitchen and jumped when she looked up to see him leaning against the door jamb with hands in pockets.

With a great big grin she scooted over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing and nuzzling into his chest.  

“G’morning.   Good run?”  She lifted her smiling face to look at him and to receive an expected good morning kiss.

“Yeah, good run.  Musn’t neglect as have done, it was sort of difficult this morning.”  He gave her a quick, chaste peck on the lips and nodded to the counter, “Coffee?  Lovely.”   He gently pulled her arms from around him and moved over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.

Hannah stood there with her mouth slightly open, confused by his peculiar withdrawal.   She didn’t know how such things worked but assumed he must be very worried about the movie to make him distant like that, so she didn’t push.

“Scrambled eggs for breakfast?  We’ve got some sausages and back bacon too, since _someone_ bought up all of it in the tri-county area.”  She teased and frowned when he responded with a humourless grunt.

Her brows knit together and she scowled for a moment before shrugging it off.   Giving him his space, she was confident he would open up and talk about whatever was bothering him as soon as he was able.

After their quiet breakfast was finished, she rose to clear the table and do the washing up.   “So, what would you like to do today?  We’ve got a few hours before you have to head back to Toronto, eh?”

Another grunt and then a sigh.  “I should do some work with the script.   I need to figure out his relationship with Arthur Lismer.”

She was certain it was the movie weighing him down so heavily.   He sounded like the last thing he wanted to do was go over the script, but he had no choice.   _Poor fella, his work is never done._

“I’ll stay out of your hair.  I’ve got lots of gardening to do so won’t interrupt … unless you want me to interrupt.”  She said with a cheeky grin.

“That’s fine.  Thank you.”  He rose to leave the room and did so without a hug, a kiss or even the faintest smile.

 _Poor lamb.  He’s really stressed out over this!_ Hannah changed into her yard grubbies and prepared for battle with her gardens.   Three hours later she had weeded, edged, transplanted, divided, mulched, fertilized and watered every living plant in her front and back yards.   Feeling the kind of peaceful happiness which always accompanied playing in the dirt, she pulled off her gloves and wiggled her fingers in anticipation of feeling Richard underneath them.

“Hidy Ho.  How’s it going, Shakespeare?”  She chuckled as she bounded into the living room, only to find it empty with not even his books lying about.

“Yo!  Giganticus?  You there?   Where ya at?”  She called out.

“In here.” Richard answered and closed his eyes, preparing himself to see her.

“Whatchya –“  Hannah froze.  His back was to her as he zipped up his suitcase and he stood straight without turning to her for several moments.

He started to speak before facing her, “Hannah, I’m sorry I have to” he turned to her but didn’t meet her eyes, “head back to Toronto now.  Sorry, I know it isn’t what we planned.”

She saw a mixture of emotions twist his features and her heart softened, making her disappointment take a back seat to her compassion for him.   She whispered, “Hey, no worries.  I know this is a tough time for you at work with everything that’s happened to Neve.”

He looked at her with a start; seeing an easy ‘out’ present itself and making him feel slightly guilty for taking it, even if there was a small grain of truth to it.  “Yeah, work.  Listen, I am sorry … sorry for ruining everything.  I –“

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize.   I may not be a movie making expert but I can appreciate that this stuff gets complicated.   Now, let’s get you all set to go and clear your mind of any concerns, ‘kay?”

“Okay.  You deserve someone much better than me, Hannah.  None of this is fair to you.”  He said sadly.

“Hey, when all the problems are solved and everything is going smoothly again we won’t have anything pulling us apart. Right?”  She smiled and moved in close to him for a hug.

He sighed and rested his arms around her, “Right.”   Regret and shame washed over him.  He may not want her complications but he most certainly didn’t want to hurt Hannah.   _I’m a right bastard for what I’m doing to her._ He kissed the top of her head and said, “Gotta go, love.”

Her sad little smile and the concern clouding her eyes broke his heart as she looked up at him.   With a moan he pulled her close to him and hugged her tightly.  She felt so good in his arms he knew he had to get away from her as soon as possible.  She clouded his judgement and he couldn’t let that happen.  She made him feel and think things that made no sense.  He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away from him, nearly breaking when she looked up at him with such unconditional trust and affection.  

It wasn’t often that you got to kiss someone goodbye and actually knew it was a final goodbye.  He knew and he wanted it to be a good goodbye kiss, one he would not be ashamed of because surely he had enough on that count already.   He brushed the fringe from her eyes and smiled, regret and sadness shaping every feature of his face. 

Richard held her face in his large hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks and he returned her gentle smile with a bittersweet one of his own.   His heart clenched as he bent to ghost his lips across hers and he was certain it stopped completely at her happy sigh.   He was such a bastard and he felt daggers twist in his gut as he pulled her tightly to him and kissed her deeply; one last taste, one last time to share an intimate breath, one last kiss before she knew he was just another cliché shipboard romance.

He was pulled to her for a reason; it was not solely circumstance and desperation.   Kissing her felt so good, so right; he didn’t want it to end, even knowing what he did, he simply didn’t want it to end.   She warmed him and it wasn’t just the heat of wanting a bit of mad rutting.   She was decent and brave and there was something special about watching her emerge from her cocoon.  She was struggling and working hard to clear the barriers of her life and it was extraordinary to witness.   He could see glimpses of her colours showing and he knew she’d be more spectacular than she already was when she cast off the remaining bindings of the past.  

But if he didn’t walk away he’d crush her as surely as she’d drown him.  She didn’t fit in his world and he didn’t have the time or means to fit into hers.   Maybe he could forget being practical for a few minutes, just a few minutes more, and then let go forever.

He relaxed into the kiss, giving himself over to the sweet simplicity of it.  Neither yesterday or tomorrow mattered, it was only that moment of affection and feeling which mattered.  It was two solitary souls touching for a brief moment in time and revelling in the connection.

Hannah felt the change in him when his hesitancy gave way and he kissed her properly, with his whole being and not just his lips.   She moved her arms from their hug around his middle to reach up and run her fingers through the hair curling on his collar.   He loved when she did that and his little sound of pleasure sent a thrilling frisson through her. _I think I can please him, I really can.  We just have to get this mess with his movie sorted out and then I can comfort him properly._

She had a momentary vision of him accepting an award for World’s Best Encourager and almost giggled.  He was wonderfully expressive when their bodies touched; little moans, sighs, and unintelligible words which conveyed a novel’s worth of meaning to let her know what he liked and what he didn’t.   She felt foolish for having doubts about their first time; it would be fine – better than fine because it would be _them_.   She's be able to please him as surely as he did her.

She traced the soft insides of his lips with the tip of her tongue and smiled at his shiver.   He pulled her tighter, holding on for dear life and she moaned her pleasure.   It was delicious to be pressed so close; to feel her breasts crushed against him, to feel his heart race and his breath hitch.

There was an intensity in his kiss she hadn’t known before; a desperation which shook her.   _He’s desperate for me and he can’t hold it in!  He’s gonna miss me even more than I’ll miss him!_    They were going to see each other in five short days but he couldn’t bear it and she could feel it rolling off him in waves.  Never in her life had anyone cared so deeply, so passionately for her.  It was intoxicating and she was delighted to get drunk on it.  Five days apart and he kissed her like it was going to be a lifetime!  She was giddy and returned his fervour tenfold.

Hannah pulled away first; she looked up at him and stroked his face with her fingertips.  “I’m going to miss you and it will probably be really horrible but it’s only for a couple of days and then no more missing and no more waiting and only happiness … oh, and sex.  Lots and lots of sex.  Everywhere, all over your apartment.  When you’re making coffee this week, think about us on the counter beside the machine.   When you’re washing the dishes – we’ll do it there too.  And of course all over the living room and your bedroom and the bathroom.  Up against walls, on the floor, even … dare I say it? … in bed!” Hannah laughed at the stricken expression on his face.   She was delighted her teasing hit the mark and hugged him tight.  He held onto her as if she was slipping away and it was more than her teasing causing it.  “Hey, it’s okay.  It’s just a few days.  Everything is going to be fine –no, everything’s going to be great.”

Richard made a strangled sound, something between a gasp and a sob.  _It is not going to be fine and it most certainly isn’t going to be great._    His face contorted with grief and remorse, twisting his mouth into a painful grimace.  _I’m going to destroy her and she has no idea what’s coming._   He was angry with himself for being so irresponsible and angry at her for being so irresistible.  He pulled her to him for a harsh, bruising kiss and whether it was to punish her or himself, he didn’t know. 

“Gotta go.”  He pushed her away and picked up his suitcase, turning his back on her.  He was unable to meet her eyes lest she see the betrayal and cowardice in his. “See you later.”  He croaked and fled the room.

He bolted out of the house and stopped dead in his tracks in the driveway.  His rental car was at Arowhon Pines and she was going to have to drive him to it.   There was some sort of sick, perverse justice to it he supposed.  He tried to run away like a coward but the universe wouldn’t let him.  The screen door slammed and he turned to see her amused smile as she swung his backpack from one hand and held her keys up in the other.

“Forgetting something are we?”  She grinned at his stricken expression.  “And they say women are flighty, romantic creatures.   Ha!  C’mon silly, hop in the car and we’ll go pick up your rental.”  She pressed the keypad beside the garage door and waited for it to fully open.   “C’mon, I haven’t got all day.  I’ve got a very full schedule today; lots of missing my boyfriend and getting excited about seeing him next week.”

Richard groaned and stood with eyes closed, hoping against hope that it was all a bad dream and that he’d wake up soon.   He startled when she honked the horn and revved the engine.    He trudged over to the trunk and threw his suitcase in, dreading the 45 minute drive ahead of him.  _Why, oh why didn’t we pick up my car before now?_    He climbed into the passenger side and slumped in the seat, leaning his head against the window.

Hannah’s heart broke for him, if only just a little.  She felt a bit guilty for taking such delight in his misery but she rationalized it with the knowledge that their separation, and therefore his misery, would be short lived.  It was so strikingly over the top and uncharacteristic of him that it felt … silly.  _He’s the calm rational one and I’m the emotional nut.  Ha!  Not today._

She glanced at him as he stared sightlessly out the side window, focusing on some inner scene rather than the one in front of him.   A twinge of empathy and unease tickled in back of her brain and she remembered he had more on his mind than missing her.  _Of course, the movie must be weighing him down even more than leaving!_   She looked down to see his hand clenched tightly on his thigh, the knuckles white and the skin pulled tight across the strong bones.    She rested her hand on his fist and rubbed it gently with her thumb.  

His head jerked around and he stared at her fingers on his.  It felt like molten lava burning and destroying everything in its wake.  He resisted the urge to snap his hand away from her, to protect himself from her debilitating touch.   Instead he gave her a small smile which didn’t reach his eyes and patted her hand with his free one before turning back to stare out the window.

Hannah understood the need to process things alone; to be able to think without the responsibility and pressure of holding up her end of a conversation with another human being.   How many times had she wished people would just let her be?   _Must be thousands by now._   

She so badly wanted to stroke his hair or his face or touch him in some comforting way but she knew physical contact was just as bad as conversation at a time like that.  She gently withdrew her hand from the top of his fist and concentrated her thoughts into a telepathic message of loving support.  

With a dark cloud enveloping Richard, the drive to Arowhon was made in silence.   Hannah didn’t mind quietude anyway but knowing she understood Richard’s need to turn inside himself made her feel proud, connected and more certain of their compatibility.  _Ha!  See, I DO have empathy!_

Richard spent the drive from Hannah’s house to Arowhon Pines in agony.   He had no idea how to break it off with her and what was worse, a large part (not the thinking part) didn’t want to.     As intolerable as it would have been, he almost wished she’d babbled on in an incoherent stream of nonsense.  That would have at least given him a reason to be annoyed and annoyance was a far easier emotion to deal with that what was on his plate.   _But no such luck, no annoying little habits or aggravating chatter._    There were no motherly attempts to cheer him up or dismiss his worries, something which he detested when people tried to do that to him.   No, she was respectful and supportive and he resented her understanding of him.

 _Why couldn’t she be someone who wouldn’t be destroyed by the microscope I live under?   Why isn’t she someone who could passably tolerate my home and life in New York?   Why can’t I be the man who would give it all up for love?_   How was he able to choose career over a personal life?  _Why does she have to be so different and so wrong?  Why does she have to feel so good in every other way?_

He would simply have to make her see that his life was neither anything she wanted nor needed.  That was the foundation of his ‘plan’ and he would work out the details on his way back to Toronto.  _Yes, she’ll be the one to break it off once she realizes how impossible a relationship with me would be._    Relief and sadness combined to wash over him, leaving him exhausted and empty.

They arrived at the Arowhon parking lot and she turned off the car, sitting quietly for a moment and stealing glances at him.   He looked like he’d aged 15 years in the matter of a couple of hours and it broke her heart.

“You know what Voltaire said, ‘we live in the best of all possible worlds’.  And I would have to agree with him.  My world with you in it is the very best of all possible worlds.”  She gave him a cheesy smile to match her cheesy words.

He stared at her in agony for he knew the story of Candide too and her choice of a quote from that book was far more apt than she realized.   With a quick gender swap, she was Candide and he was Cunégonde.  He sighed and knew it was going to be very hard to make her see that she was better served to tend her own garden.

“We shall add irrepressible and corny to your list of attributes, shall we?  Hmmm?”  He smiled wanly.

“Abso-frickin-lutely.   And you taught me everything I know about corny … Cornycus Maximus.”  She grinned and was delighted to finally see a smile reach more than just his lips.   ‘C’mere you.”  She said as she tugged on his shirt to pull him to her.  “Kiss me, you fool.”  

He hissed and wondered how the hell he found himself in such a situation.  He wanted to kiss her and never let go but he knew how stupid that was and that letting go wasn’t a maybe, or a distant possibility, it was a reality and it was looming over them at that very moment.   This was to be their last kiss, the one in the house just a warm up.

He kissed her with every ounce of want and feeling in him.   He held her close and his hands roamed her body, memorizing it so that he’d have total recall in the lonely times ahead.  His lips caressed, pressed, teased, tugged and crushed hers.  His tongue explored her, tasting and tempting her; burning her onto all of his senses.  She kissed him back in that way he craved, giving and receiving in equal measure until both of them fell onto each other’s shoulders, dazed and panting.

“Should go.”  Richard croaked.

“Yeah, should.”  Her grin was decidedly lopsided.

“Mmm.  Going now.”  He rested his forehead against hers and marshalled his strength to leave her.  He sang a dirge of ‘New York, New York, New York’ over and over in his head to remind himself why they wouldn’t work and to bolster his conviction that leaving her was the right thing to do.

“Bye.”  She whispered.

“Bye.”  His lips formed the words but no sound came out.  

Richard collected his things and stowed them in the trunk of his rental car.   With the driver’s door open he leaned over the roof and raised his hand to wave, letting it hang there until she laughed and shooed him off.   He hoped she hadn’t seen how glassy his eyes had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me ...


	33. But I'm Quite a Nice Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday afternoon and evening

The drive back to Toronto was hellish; filled with bumper to bumper traffic on Highway 400 as cottagers returned to the city after a weekend in the [Muskokas](http://issuu.com/muskokatourism/docs/2015-vacation-guide?e=6872619/12305929).   Richard groaned and thumped the steering wheel, inching over to the shoulder to see if there was an end to the river of blinking red tail lights ahead of him.

“Dammit!”  He growled.  The back-up stretched for miles and all he wanted to do was to get to his flat, pour a large glass of wine and shut the world out for a while.  _Perhaps I can pop in to see Neve before visiting hours were over, but that isn’t mission critical._

He turned on the radio and scanned until he found CBC Radio One and waited for the soothing effects of Brahams to wash over him.   Some lovely chamber music was welcome as he tried to block his troubles out of his mind. 

 _Fat chance that._    How did you solve a problem like Hannah?   Especially when traitorous parts didn’t want to ‘solve’ her.   How in the world was he going to make her see that his life was not for her?  How could he steer her to end it with him, for her own good, without being a miserable bastard?   He didn’t want to lie or be cruel or play dirty tricks – he just wanted her to part ways with him, knowing it was for the best.   It would be okay if she were a little bit sad because he knew he certainly would be.  But he didn’t want her crushed, he didn’t want to do damage like Ridley had done.   _FUCK!_

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in accompaniment to the music and let his mind drift.   He berated himself for his foolishness for the hundredth time.   Hannah was so clear about ‘shipboard romances’ and he hadn’t listened; so cocky that he was above all that, he didn’t recognize he was a walking cliché.  Yeah, a cliché who was going to hurt a woman he cared about in his impetuousness.  They were isolated, faced danger, and had a fun little attraction to start with.   _What a recipe for disaster; it was no wonder I fancied myself falling for her._    She held his life in her hands; was more than halfway decent to him and enjoyed the sexual tension as much as he did.    He should have seen it coming from a mile away.

Now there was a perfectly lovely woman who trusted him and was expecting to embark on a glorious love affair.   On Burnt Island Lake it would indeed be lovely but it would never survive in the real world; she would crumble under the pressures of his life.

Perhaps that was what she needed to see: the pressures of his life.   She’d had a brush with celebrity and despised it; how hard could it be to remind her of those circles of hell?   He could seek out the more unsavoury rumblings on the internet and share them with her and given the bloodsport in that arena, no exaggeration would be necessary.   He did hate the rumours and gossip, that was no stretch of the truth.  However, he generally had little contact with it so pushing it on her was disingenuous.   He waffled - he did hate it, that much was honest.

Friends suffered at the hands of the media far worse than he did.   All things considered, he had flown under the radar remarkably well.   Perhaps he could bring up the latest terrible thing happening to other actors, empathizing with them and moaning the current deplorable state of celebrity in the world.  _It's a bit of misdirection, certainly, but it isn’t a lie._  

He passed Gravenhurst which he took to be a good omen until he saw the sign for Toronto: 166 kilometres.   The speedometer hadn’t exceeded 60 km per hour since he passed Huntsville and was closer to 40 km per hour most of the way between Bracebridge and Gravenhurst.    He groaned anticipating another three hours in the car for a drive that should have taken half that.

He tried to concentrate on Tom; he sang songs from the early 1900’s; thought about his childhood in that big Scottish family; visualized his time on the lakes and the addictive combination of peace and inspiration he experienced there.  But everything he imagined brought him back to Hannah.  Tom was inexorably linked to Hannah; he couldn’t think about him without remembering reading the script with her or travelling his park with her or … _it all comes back to her._

He loathed intrusions on his concentration.   He was a disciplined and focused man who used his mental acuity to improve his craft.   He was able to ignore the discomfort of fifty pounds of costume and latex to portray the subtle descent into madness of a dwarven king.   Surely he could forget about the mischievous eyes and tender heart of a woman he’d only known a fortnight.

One would think so but his mind was having none of it.

It was the uncertainty of the project which must surely have been the root cause of his distraction.   With Neve unable to continue, the whole film might well be on the skids.  There were no significant gaps in his schedule for the next two years so if the film didn’t proceed close to plan, he would not be able to stay with it and that was both a frustration and a keen disappointment.    He felt intimately close to Tom, he couldn’t imagine another actor playing him.    And if he were to be honest, it would mean an accelerated departure to New York which, while convenient to his mission, left him feeling dreadfully hollow.

Richard resigned himself to a long, boring drive ahead and an uncooperative brain.   He continued to float along as random thoughts came and went, unencumbered by goals or purpose.   Without a molecule of surprise, he relived the last couple of weeks, with particular emphasis on the last few days.

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Hannah had lived in her little bungalow for three years and it never felt empty or lonely until Richard left.   In the space of a weekend he moved in and altered the energy of her home; he belonged there and she missed him.  She roamed around at loose ends for a while which did nothing for her mood.  With a huff she dug out a hands-free cord and plugged it into her phone.  Hannah puttered around in her living room while laughing and talking with her sister, fielding curious questions about what blessing had she been given because she sounded so … different … in a good way, of course.  They talked for ages, catching up on family news, world events, what was happening with Sherlock, movies they wanted to see (which made Hannah stifle a giggle) and all of the thoroughly normal things they usually talked about. 

“What is all that banging?”  Melissa asked.

Shoving the small nails to the side of her lips Hannah answered, “Just hanging some frames. Sorry if it’s too loud in your ear.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.  Just wondered that’s all.   What frames are you putting up?”

“Some of my photographs; just a couple old favourites.”  She straightened a photo of the boat house in Central Park taken at sunrise, and smiled at the memory.  

Melissa barely paused, surprised at her sister’s easy reference to her photographs.  They had been off limits ever since she’d left New York.   “Cool.  You have any new ones to send me?”

“Yeah, actually I have.   I’m putting together an album for … a friend … and once I get that done I’ll pick my favourites to send you.   Lots of the Park, of course.”

Melissa chuckled, “Of course.  You and Algonquin Park: till death do you part.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah but that’s cool.   It’s beautiful, you’re happy there, what’s not to love?   Well … other than the fact that you’re way too far away in a foreign country.   Has your blood turned to maple syrup yet?”  Melissa teased.

“Ha ha.  Very funny.   When are you coming up again?  I miss you.”  Hannah asked.

“Not sure.  But I guess it should be before the snow flies.”  Melissa said vaguely.

“Well, duh!  Of course I want to see you before winter!” 

“Yeah, and I won’t be on the road much after that.”

“Huh?  Why not?”

“The doctor said I shouldn’t travel once I hit seven and a half months.”

There was silence for a moment and Hannah screamed and danced around the living room like a lunatic.

“Hey, you’re killing my ear.  Calm down Sissy!”  Melissa laughed.  She knew her sister would be excited for her but she had no idea she’d be so loud about it.

“Missy you’re pregnant!”  She squealed again.  “I’m going to be an Auntie!”

Melissa continued to laugh at her, “Sissy you’re already an Auntie – or have you forgotten Megan and Michael?”

“Pffft.  I know but those are Dave’s kids.  This will be my first Missy’s kid’s Auntie-ness.  Oh I am so excited for you!  How far along are you?  Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?   What did Mom and Dad say?   How are you feeling?”  Hannah’s words stumbled over themselves in her excitement.

“Slow down you big dork!”  Melissa

They talked about Melissa’s pregnancy and her plans and all the things Hannah intended to do with Missy’s baby that she couldn’t do with her brother’s kids since her sister-in-law had some kind of stick up her butt about the things Hannah thought were funny.

“So you are definitely coming up this fall?”  Hannah asked again.  “The Missy and Sissy dynamic duo will be reunited?”

“Yes.   Missy and Sissy will ride again!  But right now I have to pee and as much as I love you, I’m not taking the phone in with me for this Niagara Falls experience. ‘Kay?”

“Oh okay.  Mel?”

“Yeah?"

“I’m so happy for you.  I love you and I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too Sissy.”  She blew her sister a kiss and hung up.

Hannah flopped down on the couch and held the phone to her chest.   Sometimes the stars aligned and all was right with the world.   Of all the things Melissa wanted to do with her life, being a Mom had always been at the top of her list but she married late and hadn’t been able to conceive.   She and Donald had almost completely given up so to find out she was nearly three months pregnant and things were looking healthy and normal was the best news she’d had all year; heck it was the best news ever.

Hannah looked around and was pleasantly surprised to see the results of her efforts. She had hung her photos as much to see how she felt about them as to decorate her empty walls.   She liked the photos and she liked the memories they evoked; happy memories of life in Pennsylvania, New York, her trip to Paris, the Scottish Highlands and her family. 

At one time she loved New York and was both glad to let glimpses of it back into her life and frustrated with herself that she’d cut it off for so long.   She couldn’t blame the city any more than she could blame her photographs for the unhappiness which drove her away.   New York had been a constant surprise and inspiration, endless faces and vignettes to capture her heart and her imagination.   She’d loved taking countless memory cards full of photos.   She touched the frame of the picture of a little girl curled up asleep on her Grandmother’s lap on the Staten Island Ferry.  

Turning her back on photography and New York had been the only thing she could think to do at the time.  She was overwhelmed and there was no way out so she ran and burned bridges behind her.   For a long time she vowed never to have anything to do with either but that was foolishness and part of her must have known it.   She hadn’t sold her apartment; she simply rented it to a nice young man who worked at the art gallery where she had her first showing.

What a crazy time that was.   She had been excited and angry all at the same time and never did find her footing properly.   She became the toast of the town with money and quasi D-List celebrity filling up her life.   For a while she enjoyed the perks, buying the co-op was an incredible high point and she certainly hadn’t turned her nose up at the clothes and jewellery and fine restaurants she could newly afford.  

She didn’t like the pressure to be ‘on’ all the time; to take photographs of miserable people trying to look better than they were all so that they could say they’d been photographed by “Hannah Reading, isn’t she simply wonderful?”  The fun, comfortable little gatherings with gallery owners and other photographers were replaced by power lunches, galas and PR events.   She went from taking pictures for pleasure to pictures for profit and Ridley wanted her to convert that to power.

Time Magazine bought one of her pictures for their annual photo album and all of a sudden she was in demand she couldn’t handle, commanding prices she couldn’t justify.  It was all too much.   She did several commissioned pieces which set up a very respectable nest egg and she wondered where it would all end.  Ridley attempted to control everything about her – the way she looked; where she went; who she was seen with; which assignments she accepted; what food she ordered; and where she weekended all for the sake of promoting her ‘brand’.    She missed her paramedic friends; her solitary times roaming the city; her baggy yoga pants and Bob Marley tee shirt.   She missed laughing because she was happy instead of because someone was watching.   She missed ... herself.

She tried talking to Ridley about it but he criticized and guilted her. He poisoned everything she loved and so she ran and didn’t look back.   Well she thought she didn’t look back but the previous two weeks taught her she’d never stopped looking over her shoulder.   She hadn’t dealt with the who, what, where, why, when, or how her life had jumped the rails.   Instead she hid like a scared rabbit, frightened by anything which reminded her of life in New York.   She was older and wiser, knowing who she was and what she needed to be happy.   Just as importantly she knew what she didn’t want and what would make her miserable.   Not all of the zombies were dead yet, but she had put down a good many and suspected she knew where most of the rest were lurking.

Richard was a startling surprise.   She wasn’t surprised that he stirred her libido; he was an attractive man and she wasn’t exactly dead from the neck down.  She was surprised because he inspired her to follow through with things she usually only thought about.   She pushed through discomfort to apologize to him instead of only wishing she could.   She kissed him instead of fantasizing about it - _correction, instead of just fantasizing about it_.  She set boundaries instead of letting him push them where he wanted.   He not only respected her need for meadow time, as he called it, but he understood it which was fantastic.  He had a temper and a surly side but he didn’t demean her when he saw red. 

He had a confidence in them which didn’t require her to sacrifice herself or be controlled by him.  He was enthusiastically willing to modify his life for her comfort rather than the other way around.   It blew her mind that he was so sure so quickly when all she had were doubts and fears.    He knew who he was and had no need to put others down to lift himself up.   He wasn’t a knight in shining armour riding in to rescue her; he was a friend to cheer her on and celebrate with afterwards.   He wasn’t the entrée, he was dessert; not the life sustaining part of the meal but the delicious sweet finish.   _Hmmm.  All this thinking about food and now I'm starving._ She opened the fridge and stared for a couple of minutes before grabbing a couple of plums and thinking there was still a mound of dirty clothes just waiting for her.

She trudged to the dreaded laundry room, bane of her existence.   This time there was a fun little surprise waiting for her.  Richard’s clothes were still in the dryer, she hadn’t pulled them out before he left.   It wasn’t much: a pair of shorts; underwear; socks and two t shirts so she hoped it wouldn’t inconvenience him too much.   Looking around and snickering (who was going to see?)  she peeled of her clothes and put on Richard’s, including his underwear.   She hugged herself and laughed at the silliness of it but had no thought of taking them off.

She switched loads and hummed as she folded the dry clothes.   Hannah tugged up the corner of the fitted sheet on her bed and stopped abruptly.   Maybe she’d let these sheets stay a couple of more days … the sheets they slept on together.    She made gagging sounds and laughed at herself.  “ _Ooooo he kissed me, I’ll never wash this cheek again!_ ”   She didn’t change sheets though.

That chore taken care of, she strolled back down the hall to the living room, noting the hallway walls were unnecessarily bare and thought it might be time to take a trip to her climate controlled storage locker in Huntsville to bring out more photographs.

Hannah downloaded all of the photos from her cameras and reviewed them carefully.   She selected 50 of her favourites to create a photo album for Richard … and a copy for herself as an afterthought.  Checking the colour, composition and focus of each photo she was satisfied and uploaded them to a photo printing site.  The photos would be printed in a bound book which looked lovely, ready for pick up at PhotoLab on Friday morning and she giggled in anticipation, certain he’d love it.

A quick dinner of leftovers and she was at loose ends again.   Restless and fidgety, she didn’t know what to do with herself.   She flicked through channels on tv and scrolled through Netflix unable to find anything to catch her attention.   She didn’t want to watch Richard play at one character or another; she wanted the real deal.   She tossed the remotes aside and tugged her notebook onto her lap.  Email, Facebook, Twitter all taken care of and she was still bored.   Even if she didn’t feel like watching one of his shows, she should probably familiarize herself with his CV. 

She pulled up IMDB and scrolled through his work, roughly memorizing show titles, character names and dates.    He was a busy guy, many things happening in the same year for several years in a row.   There was a photo gallery which begged to be viewed and so she did.  She snorted at the quality of the photos, most of which were quite poor by her standards.  But the thing which grabbed her eye the most was how much of a chameleon he was.  In red carpet photos he looked nothing like photoshoots and in turn nothing again like his characters.   She saw for herself the difference shaving made but laughed at the massive difference in the photo gallery.

Curious to find more she googled him and WOW, over 3.6 million hits.  _He really is some kind of big deal._   She looked through the images and followed a bunny trail (giggle snort) through to a social website which seemed to have a lot of resources dedicated to Richard.   Feeling mischievous she signed up for a Tumblr account and quickly got the hang of how it worked.   She used the search function and fell down the rabbit hole (giggle snort # 2).   Several hours later her head buzzed and she wandered over to the sink in a daze.

Hannah hadn’t considered herself naïve.  She lived in the real world; she had been using Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest for years.   Nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared her for Tumblr.  Most of it was light hearted and funny; some of it was hilariously pornographic;  some was disturbingly aggressive; some was vile in its intrusiveness; and all of it was passionate.   There were no lukewarm fans it seemed; it was ‘all in’ or ‘get out’.   Hannah discovered friendly exchanges, fan fiction, manipulated images, artwork, and a new concept: fan wars.   The rumours and resulting vicious arguments distressed her.   _Does this sort of thing touch him or is it all hidden away in obscure websites?_    When it came to dating rumours there were more ‘wish for nothing but happiness’ sentiments than ‘ugh, not her/him’ or ‘death to her/him’ which gave her the creeps.   _Will they be that bitter when they find out about me?_    The thought of it gave her chills and made her feel nauseous.  

A feeling of dread oozed through the windows and under the doors.   It slithered in and snaked its way around her ankles, climbing slowly and deliberately until it settled in the pit of her stomach.    What did Richard’s celebrity mean to her?   It was easy to ignore when they were on Otterslide Lake and alone in her house.  He wasn’t recognized at Arowhon or The Tall Pines.    Were their few public excursions typical or blissfully atypical?   She chewed her lip and worried the cuticle on her thumb.

 _Is Richard used to getting papped at every turn?  Is that what his life is like?  Is he able to go out in public or does he have to live as a recluse?_   The pit in her stomach continued to grow.

She didn’t want to alarm Richard or make him think she was bailing out on him.  But she wanted to know what she was getting into.   Would she have to put on full hair and makeup to go grocery shopping?  Hannah decided to google him again and look closely at the images to see how intrusive the public was in his private life.

She scrolled for over an hour and was delighted to find only two pictures which looked the least bit personal and those were put up on Facebook by one of the people in the picture who turned out to be just a happy fan.   She was greatly relieved that he wasn’t captured on his personal time.    With a smile on her face she looked up at the clock and was shocked to see it was after 2:00 am.  She had to go to work in the morning and would no doubt have a very busy day having been in park for over a week and she would need to catch up with Tara.

She fired off a quick good-night text to Richard and jumped into bed, snuggling into his clothes and burying her face in his pillow.  

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Richard made it back to his rental apartment in a little over two hours, better than he’d guessed in Gravenhurst.    He was tired, irritable and hungry.   Standing in front of the fridge door staring at the empty shelves he thought about all the food in Hannah’s fridge and all the conversations they wouldn’t have over dinner. 

He slammed the door shut and slung open the cupboard where the glasses were stored.   He chugged some wine into the glass and necked it back before refilling and setting it down.   He grabbed onto the counter’s edge and hung his head.    _This is not in the plan.   I was supposed to arrive in Canada, shoot a film and leave.  Three months start to finish and back to New York.   No complications, no distractions!_

 _Right!_   His co-star had brain surgery and he had the complication of all complications – Hannah.     He took another slug of the wine and closed his eyes, shutting out the self-loathing and worry.  _I’m quite a nice guy, what am I doing in this mess?_   In the last several years he’d been scrupulously honest and straightforward with each person he’d been involved with, whether it was for a weekend or a few weeks.

He took the wine to the living room and opened up his Mac Air thinking he might as well begin the search for scary celebrity stories to share with Hannah.  It didn’t take long to find a boat load and his great challenge would be to not over-do it.   He was disgusted to see that the rumour mill was grinding away, churning out ridiculous lie after ridiculous lie.    Some of the things people came up with were so preposterous they were funny.

He called a Thai restaurant that delivered and waited for his dinner to arrive.   Hannah sent him a text with a picture of herself in his underwear and tee shirt and he felt like she’d just punched him in the stomach.   _What the hell am I going to do on Friday when she shows up at my door expecting the sexiest weekend of her life?_


	34. Rat Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday to Friday

_This time he was running through molasses to get to Hannah and he couldn’t make it.  He fell into the abyss again, sinking, dragged down unable to get air, knowing Hannah was up there, waiting for him.   She wouldn’t know what happened; she’d keep looking for him; watching; waiting; she’d think he stood her up; she’d leave and never come back.  He was drowning and she’d never know.  He was drowning and would die in obscurity._

Richard woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.  _Stupid damn nightmares._   He staggered into the shower, exhausted and dreading going to the Warner Brother’s offices on Yonge Street.  Neve wasn’t going to be there and he doubted they had figured out what to do yet.   He hated this sort of uncertainty, it wound him up.  Uncertainty drove him for years, worrying  about the future was the underlying motivation for his least favourite professional decisions he made in the early years.   It was a feeling he had no desire to revisit.

Sufficiently clean and moderately lucid, he got out of the shower and dragged his sorry butt back to the bedroom to get dressed.   He doubted they’d be doing the scheduled make up tests but just in case he wore an older button up shirt; _easy off, easy on_.

When he arrived in Toronto he was disappointed his let flat wasn’t down by the lake, but he soon got over that.  To travel from the lake to Yonge Street north of the 401 Highway would have been a nightmare.   As it was, he had only a ten minute drive and four Starbucks to choose from.

He arrived at the Warner Brothers offices ten minutes early, and fidgeted in the reception area while waiting for the others.   The producers, director, second unit director, line producer, production manager, location manager and accountant filed into the board room.   It was not quite the meeting which had been planned but was understandable given Neve’s situation.   He was somewhat surprised he’d been included in what was essentially a management meeting.

Each department gave their report on the status of their work.  No one wanted to address the elephant in the room:  what werethey going to do without Neve?  Finally Janna Davison, the producer, laid it on the table.

“Neve will not be able to continue on with the production.   We’ve spoken to your team, Richard and we know your schedule doesn’t have much wiggle room.  Atom and I have been brainstorming and have put calls out to a couple of actresses but we aren’t overly optimistic.  Does anyone have any ideas?  This would be the time to chime in.”

Chatter erupted as the team discussed possible solutions and excitement rose and fell as ideas were bandied about and discarded.

Richard caught Janna’s eye and spoke quietly, “What about Evangeline Lily?  I’ve worked with her and I think she would be excellent in the role.   Would you like me to call her?”

Janna held up her hand and everyone stopped talking.  She looked to Atom who made a non-committal sound and bobbed his head.  “Could you do that Richard?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s still early in British Columbia but I could call now if you’d like.”   He shrugged.

“Yes, please.”  Janna nodded.

Richard pulled out his iPhone and scrolled through for Ev’s home number. He called and looked up to see every eye in the room upon him.   She picked up on the fourth ring, her voice slurred with sleep.

“Ullo?”

“Hi Evv, it’s Rich, it’s early there, yeah?”

“Rich, hi.  Yes, very early.   What’s up?”  She sounded more awake.

“I’m doing Shorelines and we need a lead actress ASAP.  Neve Campbell has had a medical emergency and can’t do the movie.  It’s about Tom Thomson.  Interested?”  Richard explained.

“Wait, Group of Seven, mysteriously drowned Tom Thomson?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.  What do you think, are you interested and is your schedule free?”  Richard smiled.

“How’s the script?  Who’s directing?” Evangeline asked.

“Script is really great.  Atom Egoyan is directing.”  He smiled, he knew she wanted to work with Atom.

“When does production start?”  The excitement was evident in her voice.

“Last month.”  He chuckled.

“Okay, yeah.  I’m interested.  Who should I have Betty call?”

“Janna Davison.  She’s right here, can I pass the phone to her and she’ll get Betty’s details from you?”  Richard asked.  He raised his eyebrows and smiled at Janna who held out her hand for Richard’s phone.

A few minutes later the room was full of excited voices, the prospect of bringing Evangeline on board was the answer to all of their problems.  Should she be ready to start, they wouldn’t lose much more than a week or two.

“Richard, the costume designer and makeup artist are in the offices across the street, they’d like to see you this morning.”  Janna looked to Richard and quickly turned her attention back to Atom and Bill.

Richard had the distinct impression he’d been dismissed and so he rose to leave, nodding and giving a small wave to Janna and Atom.

He spent the next four hours being a pincushion for costumers and having various make up options applied, photographed and removed from his face and listening to the staff gossip.   It was ludicrous to be so exhausted after sitting around all day, but he was.    Finally finished, he checked his phone and found two texts from Hannah and three voice mails from Evangeline.

_Hi Rich, it’s Evv.  Got the copy of the script and love it, can’t wait to sink my teeth into it – I love Winnie.  I can be there on Thursday for pre-production I think.  There might be a fly in the ointment .  Just waiting for a call back from Janna and then have to talk to Betty.  Will let you know.  If it works out, will you be able to spare some time to bring me up to speed?  Talk to you soon._

_Hi, it’s me.  Bad news.  I’ve been called back for the new Pixar movie, Betty just got the details last night.  They’ve completely revised a bunch of scenes – well a whole plot line actually - and want to re-record with the actors in the same room at the same time.   It’s gonna be a little less than a month so I don’t know what that’s gonna mean for Shorelines.  Betty and Janna are trying to work it out and I’ll let you know – or someone will._

_Good news.  They were able to reschedule a bunch of stuff so I CAN do Shorelines.  They’ll delay some of my scenes a bit – looks like you’re gonna have a week or two off soon but we can get started on Thursday.  You’re okay with helping me, right?  Gimme a call.  I’ll keep the phone on me.  Ciao_  

Richard was a little bit ashamed at the speed in which he connected Ev’s situation to the solution for his sex-with-Hannah problem.   Sometimes, not very often, despite the odds, things just fell into place.   He looked up to the heavens and thanked whoever was looking out for him.    He felt like he’d just won a lottery.   _Movie on track? Check.  Avoid sex with Hannah?  Check.  Another nail in the coffin of an actor boyfriend?  Check.  Feel like a shite arsewipe. Check._

He stopped at Whole Foods to stock his fridge and pantry and at the LCBO to pick up some wine.  He went over what he was going to say to Hannah and was satisfied he could be honest while achieving his goals.

He called the number the receptionist gave him to speak to Neve and was glad to hear her weary voice. 

“Hi Neve.  How are you?  You certainly go to great lengths to get out of working with me.”

“Oh, Rich.  I wanted to spare your feelings but …”  She rasped.

“Good job.  I don’t suspect a thing.  Listen, how are you for visitors?  Done up or fancy another one?”   He asked gently.

“I’m pretty tired this afternoon.  Maybe tomorrow?”  She suggested.

“Fair enough.  Listen … I have something to tell you but I’m not sure if maybe I should wait until tomorrow.”

“Rich, you can’t do that, you can’t leave a teaser like that!”

He spoke gently, “I’ve received confirmation that Evangeline Lily will be playing Winnie.”

“Oh.”  She said quietly. 

“Neve, I didn’t want you to hear it through the grapevine.  I know you’ve just had surgery and this is not the news you wanted … I am terribly sorry.” 

“No, no.  I appreciate it.  I hate when people treat me like I’m made of glass.  I guess I knew it was coming.  I’m glad it’s Evangeline, I can see her as Winnie, I guess.   She’s got a reputation of being nice to work with, it will be good for the movie.”

“Neve … you’re being awfully magnanimous about this.  It’s okay if you want to have a bit of a shout.”  Richard offered.

“No … it’s okay … I’ve just caused so much trouble and I thought I’d ruined everything …”  Her voice trailed off.

“You didn’t cause any difficulties Neve!  You did nothing wrong.  If it meant loosing this movie just to make sure you’ll be okay, I’d do it a thousand times over, in a heartbeat.  If it’s any consolation, I’ve worked with Ev before and she is lovely.   The movie is in good hands, Neve.”

“You’re kind to say that but --”

“There’s nothing kind about it, it simply is the truth.  Now listen to me, you get some rest and I’ll come to annoy you tomorrow.  Deal?” 

“Thank you Richard.”  She said with a tired smile and ended the call.

Richard hung up and looked at his phone a minute.   He felt awful for Neve:  sudden brain surgery; professional disappointment and far away from family and friends.   _It’s rotten luck. Rotten bloody luck.  Nothing seems to be going according to plan though, does it?  Hannah wasn’t part of the plan and look where that’s gone._

The damn phone looked back at him accusingly.  He hadn’t returned Hannah’s texts and felt guilty for ignoring her.   Once filming began he was piss poor about keeping in touch but in pre-production?  He had no excuse.  He fired off a quick text hoping to kill many birds with one stone.

_It’s insane here.  New actress, lots of work to catch her up. Call Neve. Talk soon._

That ought to get the message across that he had little to no time.  _No jokes, no comment about her in my pants; yeah it was a good text._

Richard drove home in a grumpy mood.   No matter how right it was to end things with Hannah and no matter how much he did to make it as easy as possible for her, he didn’t like it.  Not one little bit.   _I can’t be rebound-guy for someone with social phobias who hates my adopted city._   It might be a difficulty for him, but it would be murder on her.   They’d grow to hate each other and the thought of that was worse than the thought of ending it.  _Why, oh why didn’t I listen to her instead of convincing her to ride off into the sunset with me?_

After a quick dinner of salmon, asparagus and beets he fired up the Mac Air and caught up with emails, a slight twinge of remorse at doing the thing he misled Hannah into thinking he had no time for.

He hunkered down with his notebooks and script and worked for two hours without looking up.  It was still early, he probably should have called Hannah; he wanted to, but he had to maintain his ‘too busy’ excuse.  

He flicked through the tv channels, scrolled through Netflix and tried to read Timothy Findley’s [The Wars](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wars).  He was restless and couldn’t settle, frustrated because what he really wanted to do was to call Hannah and tell her about Evv; he wanted to talk about how relieved he was that the film had been saved; he wanted to hear her voice; he just wanted to hear her, period.  The anger and desperation of the previous morning had evaporated.  In its place melancholia circled, ready to settle in his bones.  His motivation might have changed but the goal was the same: for Hannah to be freed of him and a life which would destroy her.

Nothing was to be done for it that night.   He strapped on his trainers and went for a punishing run. 

 

..ooOOoo..

 

Hannah started the day groggy and wishing for another hour under the covers.   She’d had a restless sleep, continually reaching for Richard only to wake and find him not there.   It irritated her that after two nights in her bed and a couple of nights in a tent he’d become so inexorably immersed in her life.  She fired off a quick good morning text and sighed, they were one day closer to seeing each other again.

She trudged through her morning routine and grunted at Mark when she walked through the door of AO.   He chuckled at her and nodded towards the outfitting annex.  “Tara’s in there moaning almost as bad as you.”

Hannah strolled into the annex and laughed at the sight of Tara in the middle of a mess looking disgusted and forlorn. 

“What in Sam Hill happened in here?”  Hannah chuckled.

“It’s what didn’t happen.  You and I didn’t happen.”  Tara waved her arms to encompass the whole room, “This is what happens when we aren’t here, Ducky.”

Hannah shook her head, “I can’t believe Mark left it like this, he’s not that incompetent.”

“He’s not.  But I found the wrong tent fly in the wrong sack and one thing led to another and I pulled open all the tents, sleeping bags and kitchen packs.   And then … well … as you see I pretty much demolished the whole room because you and I weren’t here to make sure the right fly was packed with the right tent.”  She huffed.   “This place falls apart after a week and a half without us.  Face it, we’re indispensable.”

“Ah. Yeah.  Sure.   First things first, do we have any trippers coming in for outfitting today?”

“I have no frickin’ idea.  There’s so much shit on my desk I don’t know if there’s even a desk under there anymore.”  She griped.

“Listen, why don’t you go handle the paperwork, I’ll get started on this mess and when you’re done, you can help me finish up?”  Hannah suggested.

“Well look at you all large and in charge.  I like it!  Okay, I’ll shout if I find a res for today

Tara picked her way out of the centre of the mess and happily left the disaster in Hannah’s capable hands.   Three hours later Tara found Hannah spraying tents and packs out in the parking lot.

“Whatchya doin’?” 

“They were kinda musty so I’m disinfecting them.   I’m gonna rewash the kitchen stuff, it just looks sketchy.   Any reservations?”

“None for today.  But there’s a group due to come back this aft.  Want some help with this?”

“Yeah, sure.   Hey, so what happened with Neve?”  Hannah asked as she tossed a spray bottle to Tara.

“So the plane dropped us off on Canoe Lake where there was an ambulance waiting and they took us to the hospital in Huntsville, yadda yadda yadda.   Like I told you, they took a look at her and knew she needed an orthopedic surgeon and theirs was on holidays so they shipped us off to St. Mike’s in Toronto, blah blah blah.   They were doing the pre-op questionnaire and she mentioned the fall and the EEG and stuff and they stopped everything.  About an hour later a nurse and porter showed up and took her off for a bunch of other tests.   It took a long time which really sucked because her foot was killing her.   A whole bunch of docs came and next thing we knew she’s signing consent forms for brain surgery.”

Hannah checked the first tents she’d sprayed and found two ready to be folded.   “Wow, it was that bad that they did emergency brain surgery?”

“Well, it was like 9:00 in the morning at that point so I guess they had everything they needed, but yeah, it was pretty serious.  They sort of freaked out when they found out she had two falls in less than a week.   You forced them to do an EEG and when the docs in Toronto read it they saw something that set off alarm bells so they gave her an MRI right away.  One wall of the cyst was weak and it could have ruptured at any time and she’d have stroked out.  It was pretty scary to see them rushing like that.  I’d called JJ but he couldn’t get here until the next day because of flights and stuff.  Neve was freaking out, she thought she was dying.”   Tara looked as peaked as she felt, reliving those horrible hours.

“Oh man … that’s awful.   It’s a good thing you were there with her.  Can you imagine if she was completely alone?”

“I don’t even want to think about it.   JJ, her parents and brother all got there the next day which was good because they were there when she woke up.  It was kinda scary though; she didn’t know anybody at first.”

Hannah shivered, “I can’t imagine what they were going through.  That must have been horrible!”

“Yeah.   It was pretty bad.  To make it worse she didn’t know my name but she recognized me.  The docs said that was a good sign but you could see how it was ripping her family up.”

“So what did you do?”   Hannah asked.

“I hung around while she was awake but did some errands for the family when she fell asleep.  I got them hotel rooms and picked up some food … you know, stuff like that.  I got back to the hospital and she was still sleeping but her brother was kind of restless so I took him to a movie.   The hospital wouldn’t let anybody except JJ stay so I picked up her folks and brought them to the hotel.   The next day was mostly the same except she thought they all looked familiar.  Each day got better and now she’s doing pretty good, she’s just super tired.”

“Tarr, you’re a saint!   What would they have done without you?!   I never knew you could be so nurturing – looks good on ya!”  Hannah smiled.

Tara snorted, “Ah yeah, no!   I wasn’t nurturing I was just trying to figure out how not to get in the way.   If you were there YOU would have been nurturing with all kinds of nice, comforting things to say and chicken soup and shit.  I just didn’t want to get run over.”

“Um … have we met?  I never know the right thing to say!  You always do nice stuff without making a fuss or getting in the way.  It’s like you’re an invisible fairy godmother or something so don’t go running yourself down, lady!”

“So, what are you up to?  Bucking for a raise?  Forget it!   You’re so lazy I can’t believe it.  I’m running around saving lives and you’re laying back, living the life of Riley on a campsite with a hot guy.”   Tara elbowed her in the ribs and her eyes shot up when she saw Hannah blush.   “Ooooo.  Hot guy alert!  So what happened after we left?  Did you two stop fighting long enough to kiss and make up?”

Hannah rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “Well, we buried the hatchet.  I think I overestimated his asshole score.  He’s alright after all.”

“Liar!   You really like him.”  Tara’s eyes widened at the expression on Hannah’s face.  “Oh, it’s more than like.  Oh holy shit – you’re falling for this guy!   Oh … I see … not falling … it’s fallen.  You’re in lerv!”

“I am not.   I hardly know him.  I like him and we might try seeing each other but I’m not in ‘lerv’, you idiot.”  Hannah huffed.

They chatted back and forth, teasing and cajoling while they organized the mounds of camping gear.    At the end of the day, Tara invited Hannah over for dinner after Hannah mentioned going in to Huntsville to her storage locker, for which Hannah was highly appreciative, eager to do anything which passed the time while waiting for Friday.

Tara helped Hannah sort through the items in the storage locker and was blown away by the pieces she saw.

“These are gorgeous.  Why don’t you have them hanging up in your house?”   Al exclaimed.

“That’s the reason we’re here, dummy.   I’m pulling them out of storage to hang up in the house.”    Hannah laughed.

“They’re really gorgeous.  Where’d you get them?”  Tara asked.

“I … um … well, they’re mine.   I took them.”  Hannah shrugged with a combination of embarrassment and pride.

“Holy Dinah Shore!  Are you serious?   You take pictures like these?   I knew you liked photography, but this? HANNAH!  This is art!”  Tara had stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Hannah.

For the second time in as many weeks, Hannah talked about her time in New York without dread or anxiety.  The more stories Tara pulled out of her, the more animated and excited Hannah became.   By the time she was ready to head home, Hannah was looking forward to seeing Manhattan again.

She set the frames down against the sofa and readied for bed, humming to herself and marvelling at how quickly life could change.   She climbed into bed and held her cell phone with reverence.  Wanting to savour his messages and talking to him, she’d purposely held off checking her phone until she was alone and had no distractions.   Hannah plumped up her pillows and nestled into bed, looking forward to messages and texts from Richard.  There was only one item and it was a text.

_Hellish day.  Exhausted.  Off to bed._

Hannah felt a mixture of pity and disappointment.   She hadn’t seen or talked to him in nearly 36 hours but it felt like 36 days.   Less than 100 hours to go and she would not only see and hear him but feel him as well which was a consolation.    She snuggled down to sleep and dreamt of trying to catch a unicorn which was always just out of reach.

Tuesday and Wednesday were spent organizing inventory and preparing for the July 1st long weekend rush.    It was a ‘make work’ time at Algonquin Outfitters, knowing that they’d be tremendously busy soon but waiting for the stampede to start.   Tuesday and Wednesday nights were the same when Hannah got home.   She did some chores and plunked down in bed, hoping to talk to Richard to no avail.  Solitary daily texts proclaiming exhaustion were all she heard from him.  She wanted to call to make him laugh or hear about what it was that made him so tired but the texts seemed to preclude conversation. 

Friday morning she sat down to breakfast when her phone dinged.

_Sorry Hannah.  All hell has broken loose and I have to work around the clock this weekend.  We’re going to have to reschedule.  Will call if I can._

Pity and disappointment gave way to annoyance and then guilt.   Hannah knew that if he could, he’d be calling her every hour on the hour.   The fact that he wasn’t meant that he must be run ragged.  If she’d just been able to visit with him, maybe she could have given him a massage or done something to make him feel better.   _We don’t have to have an Olympic sex-fest; but it might be nice to just be in the same place at the same time._  

Hannah tried to shrug it off as something peculiar to temperamental actors but even with herculean efforts was still disappointed.   She didn’t want to add to his burden so tried to sound upbeat when she texted back.

 _No worries.  Disappointed but probably not as much as you are, haha.  I can come down next weekend_ J _Hey, any news on me being an extra?  I will have to ask Da Boss for time off._

The rest of the day passed without reply from Richard as did the evening.   Hannah was battling between being miffed and sympathetic when she went to bed, but couldn’t help thinking that she was supposed to be in his apartment at that very moment and most definitely not alone in her own bed.  She would have liked maybe one text or call in the last ten hours to indicated he was a little disappointed too.

Hannah’s cell phone buzzed and vibrated across her nightstand at 1:00 am, rousing her from a fitful sleep.

“Hullo?”  She mumbled groggily.

“Hi – oh no.  Sorry Hannah, did I wake you?”   Richard asked.

“S’alright.  You sound good anytime. Wassup?” Hannah rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed, shaking off the doziness of sleep.

“I had a moment without any obligations or responsibilities and thought I’d call.   I’m really sorry this weekend got crushed Hannah.”  He explained apologetically.

“Mmm.  Me too.  How are you doing?  It sounds like you’re working crazy hours.  You ok?”

Richard chuckled. “Yeah.  Standard operating procedure on a film.  It’s very intense and becomes a strange little conclave.   Remember I told you how focused it gets?   So what’s been happening in your corner of the world?”   He wanted her to talk, to hear her voice, to listen to her thoughts and ideas on everything under the sun.  She sounded so good; so warm and welcoming even when she was dozy with sleep.   He wanted to pretend, even if only for a few minutes, that he wasn’t trying to end their almost-was relationship.  

Hannah described the mess she got back to find the outfitting room and hanging out with Tara.   She thought he was a bit quiet when she told him about her sister’s long wanted pregnancy, expecting him to be a bit more enthusiastic in his congratulations.

“Oh.   I wanted to warn you about something.  Looks like some crazy tabloid has decided to spin some fairy tales.   You know they’re not true but didn’t want you to get caught unawares.   Apparently someone has been spreading rumours that I got Neve fired from the movie because she wouldn’t sleep with me.  This probably won’t get much traction because fans know I’m not like that and it’s too easy to disprove but just in case … welcome to my life.”

Hannah laughed out loud, “You and Neve?  That’s so funny!  Where do they come up with this crap?”

“I know, I know.   It’s not the first or the worst and it most definitely won’t be the last.   It’s so tiresome.   Oh, on a slightly better note, I’ve talked to Atom and he’s delighted to have you as an extra.  So is Janna, she thinks it’s a good move to have someone with your experience and water skills on board for the lake scenes.  Some nonsense about risk management and what not.”

Hannah squealed, “This is so fantastic!  I know I wasn’t exactly what you’d call excited when you first asked about it but I am really looking forward to it now!   And it means we can see each other every day for a little while which is REALLY good news!”

Richard could hear the smile in her voice and the hope behind her words.   It nearly killed him because he couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to have that time for them too. Every ounce of him called out for her and resisting the impulse to put his own needs before hers was overwhelming. _I won’t.  I can’t.  I will not do that to her._ They talked for a while longer and he let a fatigue he didn’t feel creep into his voice.

“Oh Sweetie.  You’re exhausted and you have to go to work in the morning.   Go to sleep silly  man and don’t let me keep you up like this again!”   She snorted at the juvenile double entendre and knew he was more tired that she suspected when he didn’t snort back.

“G’night Hannah.  I’ll find out the amended shooting schedule and send you the details.  Oh, and I’ll let you know about next weekend.  We may be tied up again but I won’t know until later in the week.  G’night, love.”   Richard said and hung up quickly.   He couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in her voice or worse, her supportive encouragement.  Served him right to spend the weekend alone. He was a rat bastard.


	35. What the Hell am I Doing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday to Thursday - the following week

“If you ever feel like giving up acting you could probably make a career as a forger.  Looks good, Richard!”  Janna walked past as he attempted to mimic Thompson’s strokes on The Jack Pine.

“Kind of you to say, but no one would want to buy the nonsense I paint.”  He said, concentrating on the textures of the sky.

“Seriously, when Atom sees this he will probably revise the story boards. You’re really good.  You’ve done this before, eh?”  She nodded her head in appreciation.

Richard chuckled, “I like to paint but I’m rubbish at it. Thankfully they didn’t put many of my painting shots in _The Impressionists_.  It’s been a while since I’ve actually been in one spot long enough to do this for pleasure.  Thomson’s technique is deceptively challenging.  I can feel the energy, but I can’t quite get it right …”

“Listen, Richard, I just wanted to thank you for being so accommodating with all the changes.   Suggesting Evangeline on its own has kept the project from being shelved, but all this …”  She said, sweeping her arm around the room.  “Making use of every available minute to prepare and find ways to enrich the movie … well, you’re a producer’s dream!”

He smiled and deflected her praise, pointing the end of his paintbrush to a spot on the canvas. “What do you think about the treeline, right here?  Too blue?”

Janna raised her eyebrows, amused by his modesty _and_ attention to detail.  “Looks good to me.  We’ll have to get you a lithograph to work from so you’re not squinting at that old book.  I wanted to talk to you about the schedule.  Your agent says you’re okay to extend the shoot out a couple of weeks but not much more than that.  We are going to have to shut down the cameras for about ten days or so while we wait for Evie to get back from LA.  Do you want to stay here and continue research or take a bit of time off?  We’ll be pushing the schedule pretty hard once shooting resumes, so you might want to …”

He paused and looked off into the distance, “Ten days, hmmm?” In July he was to go to New York for a quick meeting with Martin Scorsese, maybe he could take a few days and then pop over to England for a surprise visit with his family.  _Quick double header, yeah, I’d like that._  “I think I might go home for some of it, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!  I’ll have George email you an updated production schedule so you have the most current times.”  She shouldn’t have been surprised by his team spirit, his attitude had never been anything but exemplary all the way along.  _If I could only work with one actor for the rest of my career, I’d pick him.  This guy is such a pleasure.  I wonder if he’d like to get into producing.  I’d love to take him on as a partner._  “Anything you need before I go?

“No thank you.  I’m just going to work on this painting for a bit.  Might try sketching The Canoe. I wish I’d taken more photos while I was in the park – I could use them for inspiration.”   He added thoughtfully.

Janna chuckled, “I’ll get George to send you some Algonquin atmospheric pieces.   See you later. And thanks again.  We really appreciate working with you, Richard.”  She waved and left Richard to his art.

 _A fortnight off?  Why are the gods being so generous?  This week and next I can bury myself in work with Evie, then take off to New York … Hannah’s visit conundrum solved for a month at least.  Maybe she’ll move on by then._   The thought of which should have been a complete relief but instead it was mixed with dread.  Mood and concentration destroyed, he plopped his brush into the cleaning pot and sighed.  _Great, just great._    He cleaned his brushes and hung them to dry, thinking about Scorsese, New York and Leicester.  _Might as well go for a coffee, I’m not going to get much done moping around like a moody sot._   He bent to put his iPhone into his backpack when it pinged.  _Janna is certainly efficient – she and George are a well-oiled machine!_

He looked at the updated production schedule and smiled, with weekends it would be two weeks off.  _Just enough time for New York and Leicester._    He sent a text to his agent to see if the meeting with Scorsese could be rescheduled or extended given his new availability; one to his Dad to see if he wanted to do anything special while he was home; and one to his nephew to ask him to get tickets to a football match.  _Time at home.  That’s exactly what I need.  Gotta get away from this and back to normal.  That’s just what the doctor ordered.  So why does it feel like a funeral?_ He shook his head trying to dislodge the bothersome clouds of woe which rained down gloom all over his afternoon.  _How should I break this to Hannah?  All at once or let it trickle out?_ Inspiration struck! _Oooh I’ll ask her to come with.  She hates the city and this will just reinforce that it’s my home.  Yeah, that’s what to do.  I’ll break it slowly though, lots of little disappointments and then this big reminder.  Dammit.  Maybe I should just be straightforward with her – let her know that it just can’t work no matter how much we’d like it to.  Maybe I should …  yeah, right.  The classic, it's not you, it's me.  I can't ..._

 

..ooOOoo..

 

“Toss me those carabiners – I’ve almost got these packs ready to go.”  Tara held out her hand to catch the metal clips but Hannah just laughed and walked them over to her.

“Ah, yeah.  Like I’m gonna throw chunks of metal at you.  I don’t think so!”  Hannah rolled her eyes.  She may be a wizard in the outdoors but she couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a basketball.  She wasn’t keen on poking out Tara’s eye, which would be just her luck.

“Hey, where did that twinkle go that you were annoying me with on Friday?  Something up with Luvah-Boy?”  Tara took the carabiners from Hannah and tucked them into the outside pocket of a well stuffed hiking backpack. 

“Ah, nothing.  He was tied up with work on the weekend.  It’s fine.  I know he’s got a weird job.  And Jon called to say they were short-handed at the Opeongo store so I went over and helped.”  She shrugged nonchalantly.  “It’s not exactly the end of the world, you know.  It’s kinda disappointing but … ehhhhh, I’ll survive.  Next weekend’s not so far away.”

“Lots of phone sex ‘til then?”

“WHAT?  NO.  No! It’s not like that.   Well … yet.”  Hannah blushed even though there was nothing she couldn’t say to Tara.

Tara choked, “Whaddya mean ‘not yet **’**????”

“Nuthin’”

“C’mon, spill!”

“Well, we haven’t really … you know … yet.  It was supposed to be last weekend.”  She mumbled.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!   Are you serious??  All snuggled up with Mr. Sexy Pants, making heart eyes at each other and … nada?

“Umm …. no?”

“Are you even real?  Why the hell not?  No witnesses, perfect atmosphere … “

“No condoms.”  She whispered.

Tara made strangled sounds of disbelief mixed with laughter.

“Oh shut up,” Hannah grumbled.

“Okay, so that explains no bumping uglies while you were in the park. But what about last weekend in your house?”

“It’s not like I have condoms lying around, Tarr!”

“Noooooo, but it’s not like there isn’t a store within a few minutes, either!”

“Well, he did buy some.”

“Oh this is too good.  So now you’ve got ‘em and still no erh-erh erh-erh erh-erh?”  She quickly pumped her index finger in and out of her fist.

“Tara, why are you so crude?”  Hannah laughed.

“A woman can’t deny her true nature.”  Tara grinned wickedly. “Now, tell Miss Tara why you’re wearing a chastity belt? Or … NO … maybe … no … impossible … is Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome really Mr. Tall Dark and Droopy?  Flag only flies at half-mast? Limp biscuit?  3.5 inch floppy? Playing snooker with a rope? Hey, he’s British so maybe he should be called Wonky Willy.”

Hannah tried not to laugh to no avail.  “Wonky Willy?  Richard?  You have GOT to be kidding me!  No.  Not even a little bit.  That man could be a porn star!”  She stood up tall and spoke with a ridiculously deep voice, ”Ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille – but you’re gonna need a wide angle lens.”

“Oh reeeeeeeally?  He’s got quite the ankle-spanker, eh?  So, why haven’t you slipped his Admiral Winky into port?”  Tara raised her eyebrows and waited expectantly for an answer.

“Cuz.”  Hannah looked down and pretended to sort the carabiners.  “Cuz  I didn’t wait three years to just go jumping into bed with the first guy that comes along … well … I guess I did kinda jump into bed with him cuz Bruce the Moose wrecked his tent … but I’m not exactly gonna have sex with some random hot dude.  I sorta kinda want to, you know, _care_ about whoever docks in my port.”

Tara made gagging sounds.  “Darlin’ you shoulda climbed that like a tree!   Seriously!  Talk about a fine tree to swing from.   Perfect way to get back in the game!”

“Ya know, he actually would have been the perfect fling.  Maybe if we had condoms the first time we made out it would have been.  But … well … I kind of like him and as much as it would have been fun for a minute there was this thing … this … I dunno … glimmer of something better than just an overdue orgasm.”

“Awwww, aren’t you adorable.  My little fluffy, romantic friend.  You might just be a good influence on me, yet!”

The two women looked at each other for a second and in unison, said “Nahhhhh!”

“So, what’s the plan?  When are you going to re-lose your virginity?”

Hannah rolled her eyes at Tara, “It was gonna be this past weekend but with Neve out of commission and a new actress jumping in, he’s gotta work.  So it’s gonna be next weekend.”

“Ooooh eat lots of pineapples all week.”  Tara cackled.  “You’ll thank me for it … or he will … or both of you will.”

“You are incorrigible!  Who knows, I might just hit the produce section when I get groceries tonight.”  Hannah giggled. “So, has anything changed since the dark ages when I last had sex?  Anything new I need to know about? Am I supposed to stand on one leg and flap my arms like a flamingo or something?”

“Nah.  All the body parts still fit together in the same way.”  Tara paused and scrutinized her carefully.  “You okay with all this?  I mean, we both know that I’d be all over him, but you’re a sweet little bunny and … well … he hasn’t, like seduced you or something has he? You two were kind of, I dunno, yo-yos when Neve and I left you in the park.”

Hannah laughed out loud, “Noooo, he most definitely hasn’t.  In fact, when I was a little too … um … amorous, he’s the one that stopped us.  I would have just said ‘screw it’ to the condom problem but he was the responsible, sensitive guy. Which doesn't make sense because I don't want a fling but I _really_ wanted him ...”

“Ooooooh I hate him.  Good looking, built like a Greek god, voice like that, AND he’s a nice guy?  I hate him sooooo much.”  Tara shook her head and grinned. “I loathe him!”

“Yeah, he’s pretty awful, isn’t he?  He’s a terrible work-aholic though.  And a city-slicker.  And rich and famous.”  Hannah grinned back, pleased that she was not even a little bit repulsed by those descriptions.

“Gah.  If he steals you away from here Ima gonna have to put a hurtin’ on him!”  Tara warned.

Hannah stilled, realizing she had a significant request to make.  “Umm, about that.  He’s asked me to do something and I might need to take some time off this summer.”

Tara’s expression changed from teasing to wary, “Oh?”

“Yeah.  He asked me if I’d like to be an extra in _Shorelines_ when they do the canoeing scenes here in the park.  Sometime in August I think.  Maybe only a couple of weeks … and maybe not even every day.  I don’t have the exact details yet.  I know it’s high season … do you think I can do it?  Will Jon kill me for asking?”  Hannah was suddenly nervous that the thing which she initially couldn’t imagine, but had become something she was looking forward to, might be impossible.  She owed Tara and AO her loyalty and taking off during their busiest time of year was pretty presumptuous.

“Wow.  Um – I dunno.  Get the exact details and we’ll figure out a plan.  We’ll go talk to Jon about it together.  He was pretty pumped to have Richard and Neve here – he might be okay with it.  Maybe they’ll give AO a mention in the Thank You’s or something. He’d love that.”

“I don’t have any pull but maybe Richard does or … I guess maybe extras get paid and I could ask that they thank AO instead of pay me. I dunno.  What do you think?”  Hannah mused.

“I don’t know anything about movies, but yeah, that sounds like a good deal for them.” Tara nodded, “Now, let’s get ready for these campers and stop jibber-jabbering about being a movie star or something!”

“No problem.   Just remember, you knew me when …”  Hannah laughed. She enjoyed laughing about fame, even if it was imaginary.  _There’s a novel idea.  Who’da thunk it?_

Tara and Hannah finished the prep for three group reservations – two hiking and one canoe trip – chatting away, able to do the routine work without much thought.

“Any chance there’s a group that needs a guide?”  Hannah asked, hopefully.

“None on the books yet.  Itching to get back out there so soon?  One smitten suitor not enough for ya?” She snickered at Hannah’s ‘I’m so done’ expression. “I have to finish up the outfitting inventory – you wanna go out and see where we’re at in the store?”

“Yeah, sure.  I’m just gonna send Richard a text. ‘kay?”  Hannah asked.

“Of course.   Lunch in an hour?  Did you bring yours or wanna go to The Paddle Inn?”

“Mmm hmm.”  She replied, distracted as she texted Richard.

 

_Tara says I should be able to get time off if there’s a ‘Thanks To AO’ in the film’s credits.  Call to discuss?_

 

She smiled and wondered what he’d say to that.  For a woman so dead set against anything to do with the public eye, she was turning into quite the movie negotiator.  She chuckled at that.  _Yeah, I’ll have to get a rider that stipulates only wintergreen jellybeans or something._

 

..ooOOOoo..

 

Richard was on his way back to the rehearsal space when his phone dinged and he couldn’t resist smiling when he saw who it was from.   He shook his head and chuckled when he read her note, thinking she would be a force to reckon with if she decided to go into entertainment management.  _A funny little extra and she’s negotiating terms.  Will she never cease to surprise me?_   His smile faded when he realised the path his thoughts were taking and that she would indeed cease to surprise him, sooner rather than later.

 

_I’ll have the studio’s lawyers courier a contract to you, Madame.  Anything else you require?_

 

_Well, there is something I require but it’s got nothing to do with the film.  Only you can provide it ;-)_

_Hey, none of that now.  Phones can be hacked.  Will call tonight.  Will probably be late again, is that okay?_

_Sure, I’ll be ready for you *snicker*_

_Stop that!  Naughty girl!  Will call tonight. Be good._

 

He was smiling as he put his phone away and whistling as he walked into the rehearsal space to resume painting.   He didn’t hear the door open and close behind him. 

“Well look at you, Rembrandt!”  Evangeline laughed.  “I’m all done with hair, makeup and wardrobe.  Did you know that they had morning, afternoon, and evening dresses and riding dresses and formal dresses … and I’m going to be trussed up tighter than Tauriel? I thought early 1900’s did away with corsets.  [Paul Poiret](https://www.flickr.com/photos/double-m2/5627096432/in/set-72157626390252765) hadn’t made it to Canada yet, I guess.”

“I’m sure you’ll look lovely.  Want to work this afternoon?  We’ve got quite a bit to cover yet.”  Richard asked.

“Yeah, sure.

“I didn’t think you’d be free the rest of the day so I was just puttering around with Tom’s art.  Mind if I just finish up this section?  We can talk about Tom and Winnie while I paint which is sort of apropos anyway.”  He picked up the palette and squeezed a bit of French ultramarine onto it.

“Not at all.”   Evangeline dragged a stool over to Richard’s canvas and pulled a copy of the script out of her bag.

They discussed the intricacies of Winnie and Tom’s relationship and how the push and pull led them to their ultimate tragedy.  The next few days fell into a comfortable pattern of meetings, rehearsals, lunches and dinners with the friendship between the actors which began in New Zealand happily reinforced.

Evenings were another matter.  Each night Richard called Hannah, talking about Tom and the park, rehearsals with Evie and the rest of the cast.  He made sure to toss in more rumours and gossip from the internet but as the week went on, his intended disgust slowly turned into his more natural amused reaction to it.  By Thursday he was close to tossing his plan of getting Hannah to break up with him all together.   Hannah opened the door for him.  _Why do the gods smile when I sort of wish they wouldn’t?_

“So, I have some bad news, I’ve been putting off telling you.”  Hannah mumbled.

“Oh?”  Richard was feeling queasy because he was just about to give her his own bad news.

“We’ve got a big group coming in Friday night and I have to stay to get them off.”

Richard choked, “Pardon me?”

There was a silence on Hannah’s end for a moment before she giggled, “Ahhhh, okay, got it.  Get them off on their trip, not _get them off_!  Perverticus.   It means I won’t be able to come down to your place until very late Friday night and I’ll have to be back for mid Sunday afternoon.  So, it’s not exactly the weekend we had planned.”

Richard’s gears were spinning, “After me having to work all last weekend, it’s not like I could even think of complaining about it.”  He coughed and added, “Disappointed of course.”

“You’re being weird.  What’s going on?”

“I have to work on Saturday.”   Hannah groaned but he continued slowly, “I may have a sweetener though …”   He stalled, unsure if he wanted to proceed, he felt he was delivering a dirty blow. “How would you feel about a … get away?”

She let out a high pitched whistling sound. “Mmm hmm.  What do you have in mind?”

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, “What do you think of coming with me to New York and London for a couple of weeks?”  He closed his eyes and waited for her anxiety to build as he was certain it would and hated himself for it.

Hannah was silent for quite a long time.  “Well, thanks for the offer but I don’t think so.” She said quietly.

“Oh Hannah, I’m sorry.  I should not have asked that of you.  I have to go for a meeting and then to London to see my family and I thought … I should have known better … it was thoughtless …”  Bile rose in his throat, he was thoroughly disgusted at what he'd just done to her.

“No, no.  I appreciate the offer and am kind of blown away that you’d take me to me your family.  But I can’t.”

“I understand – you hate New York –“

“No that’s not it.  I’d love to go.  But I can’t – we’re too busy at work.   And if I’m going to take time off in August for the film, I can’t skip away now. Dammit.”

Richard was dumbstruck.  He had no idea what to say.  _Never dreamed in a million years dreamed that she’d even consider New York – what the hell do I do now?_    “You’d … you’re … you really would come?  You’d come with me to New York?”

“Yeah.  I’d love to, I’d love to come with you in New York.”  She snickered before continuing wistfully, “I actually kind of miss some of it.  I’d forgotten that not everything has a bad memory attached to it.  And if I went with you … you could show me your favourite places.  Like your bedroom, your hallway, your kitchen …”

He laughed, both from surprise and from her naughtiness, “If we follow your plan, it won’t matter what city we’re in!”

“And you’re complaining, why?”

“No, not complaining,” he chuckled and then frowned, disappointedly. “It does present us with some challenges though …”

“No kidding!  When is this banishment taking place and how long will it last?”

“Middle of July for two weeks. You’d really have come?”  he asked.

“Yeah, o’ course.  Well … I can guess that it’s not really an ‘of course’, is it?”  She smirked, “two weeks ago there’s no way I’d set foot in that zombie infested city.  Now?  There might be some bad memories, but I’ve slain a lot of those zombies and am up to slaying more.” 

“I’m gobsmacked.”  He was dazed and confused. “I’m … impressed!”

She laughed at that, “What?  Did you invite me thinking I’d say no?”

“No, no no, nothing like that.”  Every single cell in his body cringed.  _When the fuck did I turn into such a liar?_   “It’s just that-“

“Oh don’t be silly, I was just teasing!  Of course you didn’t.  I wish I could go … I’ve always wanted to see England.  But there’s time for all that later.  The more pressing question is, what are we going to do about this weekend?”  Her amusement with Richard’s discomfiture evaporated when she remembered that the real matter at hand was their weekend.  _The Weekend.  THIS weekend.  Dammit, am I going to die re-virginated?_

“That’s a really good question.  Let me see if I can get things sorted and I’ll let you know tomorrow.  Did you get the email about the shooting schedule?  Janna said they’d be happy to give AO a nod in the credits.”

“Yeah, Jon is wondering if he might be able to be in a canoe too.  And he has some vintage craft you might want to take a look at if you don’t already have period canoes.”

Richard laughed, “He’s really getting into this, isn’t he?  That’s kind of him to offer, I’ll let Janna know and she’ll probably have George get in touch with him.”

“Okay so you’ll get back to me about Saturday, Janna will get back to Jon about canoes and movie stardom and I’ll get back to you about … am I supposed to do something?  I forget?”

“You just have to continuing being wonderful.  That’s all.” 

She made choking, gagging sounds, “Gak, you don’t have to break out the corny flattery – I’m kind of a sure thing, you know!”

He chuckled, “And on that motivational message, I’m signing off.”

“G’night, Giganticus.”  There was a warm, teasing smile in Hannah’s voice.

“Good night, Hannah.”  He hung up with a smile on his face.  _That woman._   And the smile fell.  _What the hell am I doing?_


	36. Right, Let's Go In Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday night - Second Friday away from Hannah

Richard arrived at the rehearsal studio the next morning looking a little the worse for wear.  The dark circles under his eyes and the extra-large coffee with an espresso shot could attest to the long night filled with nightmares of Tom drowning and Winnie trying to save him.   _All bloody night, drowning, drowning, drowning, and Winnie there, reaching out ... damn nightmares._

The other actors and senior film crew filed in, chatting animatedly with one another as Richard took a deep breath and wondered where he was going to find the energy to make it through the day.  _You’ve pulled all-nighters before, mate, you can do this.  Just let Tom take you away, Richie.  You can do it!_

 Janna and Atom walked into the studio with several others Richard hadn’t met before.  They looked decidedly un-entertainment industry.   “Good morning everyone, I’d like you to meet our Locations Manager, Brenda Fothrop, and some of the people you’ll undoubtedly be spending time with this summer.”

 “Thanks Janna.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to be working with all of you.  It’s been amazing finding existing locations which still look like turn of the century Toronto and of course finding good spots to film the wilderness scenes.  These folks will be helping us with the wilderness locations – this is Pradeep Chima and Barb Joyner – they are the partners of the company we’ll be using to ferry us all in and out of [Cedar Lake](https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Cedar+Lake,+Nipissing,+Unorganized,+South+Part,+ON/@46.0098259,-78.4704857,7z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x4cd63eccd39fe535:0x8ce621e93af87fc1) where we’ll be shooting most of the canoeing and camping scenes.  They have helicopters and float planes so you won’t actually have to portage everything yourselves.”  Brenda smiled, thinking she was being funny but the thought of portaging all of the film’s gear had never occurred to anyone and the mere idea of it was ghastly.

 “Pradeep and Barb will be here for most of the morning reviewing schedules and our needs.  If anyone has any questions, don’t hesitate to pop by, we’ll be in my office across the street.”  Janna nodded to them. “So, any fear of flying or helicopters should be worked out today.”    Janna and the transportation and locations team left, leaving the actors and directors to work through scenes.

 At lunch time, Richard knocked on Janna’s door.   “Hi, thought I’d pop by if you have a moment?”

 Janna motioned him in with a look of concern, she was aware of his water fears but not of anything to do with flying.  “Come in, come in.  Pradeep, Barb this is our Tom Thomson, Richard Armitage.  Richard, this is Pradeep and Brenda of _Fly Me to the Moon, Air Charters_.”

 Nods and handshakes and pleased to meet you’s complete, Richard looked to Brenda and Pradeep.  “I am very interested in the crafts you will be using with us.”

Pradeep, “Do you have a fear of flying, Richard?”

He chuckled, “Oh no, quite the opposite in fact.  I’ve been studying for my pilot’s licence and recently had the opportunity to fly in a float plane in the park.  It’s not very Tom Thomson of me, but I couldn’t curb my curiosity and as we’re having a bit of a lunch break at the moment …”

“We’ve got a couple of [DeHavilland Otters](http://www.bush-planes.com/images/C-FUKN-Northway-Aviation-DHC-3-Otter-2.jpg), a [Cessna Caravan](http://www.bush-planes.com/images/448xNxCessnaCaravanOnFloats.jpg.pagespeed.ic.Bbp4IuYmXw.webp), and a [Grumman Goose](http://www.bush-planes.com/images/448xNxGrummanGooseCarribeanQueen.jpg.pagespeed.ic.fNV-AQaGOB.webp).  Are you interested in the helicopters too?”  Barb asked. “We both fly all craft but I bow to Pradeep for everything to do with choppers and I’m the Master Bush Pilot.”

“We’ve got a few Bells – two [Iroquois](http://www.bush-planes.com/images/IroquoisRescue.jpg) and a [412](http://www.bush-planes.com/images/Bell412.jpg).  Have you flown a helicopter?”  Pradeep smiled, proudly.

Richard laughed, “I’ve flown in [a couple of helicopters for work](http://41.media.tumblr.com/11604cd722d1aa0634489f76fab9ba90/tumblr_nn2s9wS8u41tuf6e9o5_1280.png) and pleasure but I’ve never co-piloted.  Still working on my recreational pilot’s licence, I’m afraid.  Not as much time to get in air time as I’d like.”

“Well, I’ve got my Instructor’s rating so if you want some air time while you’re here, just let me know.”  Barb brushed her bangs out of her eyes and smiled warmly at him. 

“Thanks for that!  I really appreciate it.  Not sure how much free time I’ll have but I’ll definitely keep it in mind.”  He turned to Pradeep, “We flew in a number of different kinds when I was in New Zealand, sorry I don’t remember what machines they were.”

“New Zealand?  I lived on the North Island for a couple of years.  Fantastic place to fly.  Where did you go when you were there?”  Barb was excited to talk about places she loved.

“Oh, Otago, Lake Watakipu, Paradise, Treble Cone, Strather Taieri, Te Anau Downs …”  He chuckled, “It might be easier to say where we didn’t go.  If it was pristine, we were there.”  For the next few minutes Richard and Barb shared places and sights that were forever carved into their memories.  “I must apologize, I’ve hijacked your meeting.  So, sorry.  Please, just pretend I was only here to say hello.”  He smiled and waved as he turned to leave the room.

Janna said, “Richard, we’re just about to leave for lunch too, would you like to join us?”

He shook his head, “Love to, but Atom wants to finish up early this afternoon so I only have a moment.  I was just going to run and grab a smoothie.  But thank you.  Goodbye Pradeep, Barb.  Nice to meet you and look forward to seeing you again soon.”

On his way to _New-trition_ he cursed himself.  _Yeah, short lunch. At least that’s not a lie.  Not nearly enough time to figure out what I’m going to say to Hann.  How the hell am I going to let her down without hurting her?  Dammit._    He rehearsed a dozen different ways to tell her not to come and none of them were any good.    On his way back to the rehearsal studio, he swore out loud and took the chicken’s way out:a text.

_Please don’t hate me.  This weekend’s not going to work.  I’m in over my head.  Call me tonight when you’re home from work._

He felt like he swallowed a molten cannonball.  _Funny what a conscience feels like.  Honest people don’t have these problems._   His phone dinged and his limbs were too heavy to hold up.  He wanted to look, but didn’t want to look.  _God, I wish she could come._ He almost smiled at that. _Yeah, I really wish she’d cum._   With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and swiped the screen.

_You poor thing.  Working your fingers to the bone.  Haha, guess you will have to. Literally.  Which reminds me, I’ll have to stop off and buy some batteries on my way home from work ;-)   Will call later._

He chuckled and shook his head.  _Why is she so bloody good to me?  I don’t deserve it, dammit.  She’s right though, I’ll most definitely have to work my fingers on my bone.  Dammit I want her._

He meditated for a moment before rejoining his colleagues and finishing up their work for the afternoon. 

Not long before they were ready to leave, Barb dropped by the studio.

“Couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my fellow honourary Kiwi.”  She said with a smile.

“That wouldn’t do!  Come in, we’re just about to punch out for the day.”  Richard returned her smile and welcomed her into the room.

“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt.  Just wanted to say hi and hope you have a good weekend.  Looking forward to working with all of you.”  She said it to the room but her eyes never left Richard. “Oh, and here’s my card.”

“Thanks Barb.  I’ll give you a call as soon as I can.”  Richard gave her a small hug.

Barb waved farewell, leaving Evangeline standing there with her mouth hanging open.

“What’s the matter with you?  Catching flies, are we?”  Richard elbowed Evie and laughed.

She shook her head to cast off the surprise she felt, “Ummm, Rich, so what’s up with Sporty Spice?  Is this another Mt. Ruapehu in the making?”

He was confused, “Huh?  What … oh, no.  It’s not like that.  She’s going to let me ride her –“

“Oh I bet she is!”  Evie laughed.

“Aeroplane!  She’s going to let me ride her aeroplane! Good lord, woman, get your mind out of the gutter!”  Richard laughed.  “And I’ve no inclination to repeat Mt. Ruapehu.  I almost froze my willie off."

“Served you right.  It’s a wonder she took you back down the mountain at all, after that.”  Evie snickered.

“Not one of my finer moments.  Hey, I’m just on my way.  Do you need a ride?”  He asked.

“What?  You’re not jetting off to New York for the weekend?  How come?”  Evie waved at the assistant director who was leaving.

“Um, no … not this weekend.”  He mumbled.

“How come, Chum?”

“I have a lot of work to do?  No time for anything personal?”

“Why are you asking me instead of telling me?”

“I sort of backed out of weekend plans because of work so I’m staying to work.”  He looked at her beseechingly, hoping she’d not press the matter. “Any chance you want to get together to work on Winnie and Tom?  I got you into this, the least I can do is help you get caught up.  Tomorrow maybe?”

“Richard! You are the worst liar in the universe.  What in the world is going on with you?”

“I might have said that I needed to catch you up this weekend?”

Evangeline sputtered, “You said what?  Richard … I’ve known you for nearly five years and I’ve only seen you act like this once.  What have you done?”

“I sort of got involved with someone and she’s really lovely but it’s not going to work and I’m trying to let her down gently.”  He was mumbling again.

She swatted his arm. “You idiot.  Lying is going to make things better?  I don’t think so.  Why aren’t you just honest with her?”

“It’s complicated.  And if you work with me tomorrow it won't technically be a lie.”

“Yeah, most rationalizations for shitty behaviour usually are.  Do you want me to come over and we can talk about it or are you going to go all ‘strong silent type’ again?”

He sighed and chewed his lip for a moment. “Maybe I could pick you up at 7 and we can go out for dinner and a chat?”

Evangeline grimaced, “Oh it must be really bad. You need to do this in public?  This must be way worse than [Mt. Ruapehu](https://www.mtruapehu.com/winter/webcams/).”

“Much.”

“Okay.  7:00.  There’s a decent Greek place right around the corner from my apartment.  I have a feeling that a little [Saganaki Opa](http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/03/bf/60/f2/athens-restaurant.jpg) might be both metaphorical and a good distraction for when I yell at you.”

“Why am I dreading this so much?”

“Because you know that if you need an ass kicking, you’re gonna get an ass kicking.  That’s the way we roll, baby.”

“Why are we friends again?”  Richard asked.

“Exactly because you know that if you need an ass kicking, you’re gonna get an ass kicking.”  She laughed.

“Good. Friendships based on abuse.  I’d forgotten about that.   Excellent.  Right, I’ll pick you up at 7 then.”   He chuckled and shook his head at her. With a wave, he left the studio and wondered what he’d just gotten himself into. 

Richard stopped off to pick up a couple of bottles of wine and some groceries for the weekend.   When he got home he changed into gym clothes and poured a glass of wine, paused and filled the glass up to the brim.

He stepped out onto the balcony and sipped his wine while staring sightlessly at the city below him.  _What the hell am I doing?  She’s wonderful.  I’m a little shit. What the hell is going on?  I had good reason for leaving, didn’t I?  My life would drown her.  Wouldn’t it?  I was so sure she’d be appalled at the thought of going to New York.  What kind of shit does that to someone they care about? But she didn’t freak out.  She was …excited.  Have I thoroughly fucked this up?  There’s no way she could deal with this … sometimes I can’t deal with this.  Arghhhhh._

His thoughts went around and around with no more clarity when he paused for more wine than when he began.  Two full glasses of wine later and he was more morose, more confused, more doubtful and wanted her more than the night before he left her house.

_She’s stronger than I thought.  She’s braver than I thought.  Who am I to tell her what she can or can’t handle?  How can I devalue her like that?  It’s demeaning to her and making a liar of me.  But there’re pack hunters out there … they will devour her.  She hates celebrity and she’s a sensitive soul.  She’ll need more meadow time than I can provide her.  Or will she?  She wanted to go to New York.  Is it up to me to provide for her needs?  Arghhhhhhh._

Halfway through his third glass of wine, the clouds cleared and he knew exactly what he wanted to do – what he needed to do.  He looked at his watch and smiled.  _Perfect.  Just in time._    He grabbed his jacket, shoved his phone and wallet into the pocket, grabbed his keys and started out the door.  The glass of wine caught his eye and he groaned.  He’d had nearly a whole bottle and a three to four hour drive to cottage country made no sense.  He was definitely over the legal limit for alcohol.  _FUCK._    He threw down his keys in frustration and slumped down on the couch, hanging his head in his hands and bemoaning his horrible timing.

 _Why can’t the bloody universe cooperate this time??? Nooo.  Dammit dammit dammit.  Evie.  Maybe Evie will drive me.  Gotta call Evie._   He reached for his cell phone and a piece of paper came out of his pocket with it.   _Barb. Ugh.  She’s sort of pretty and seems nice but … no.  Just no.  Women, women everywhere but not the one I want._   He slapped his forehead several times.  _Stop being such a git, Armitage._   He heaved a heavy sigh and took a great gulp of wine.  _I’ll have to beg off with Evie.  I’m no good for the third degree tonight._ He tossed Brenda’s business card down on the table.   _Oh, Barb._ Another gulp of wine.  He could imagine the sound of the rotors turning and the pre-flight checks.  _I love helicopters._   He picked up her card again and turned it over, she’d written her mobile number on the back.  He groaned.  _Oh, Barb._   He remembered Evie’s taunt about offering to give him a ride and chuckled.  He looked at the keys, his wine and the card.  _Barb!_

He dialed the cell phone and sighed when the voice mail clicked on. “Hi Barb, it’s Richard – we met today at Janna’s office.  I have a favour to ask of you and was wondering if you might call me back.”  He left his mobile number and pressed end.   _I’ll give her a few minutes and call Evie._   He was figuring out how to avoid a flaying from Evie when his mobile rang.

“Hullo?”

“Hi Richard, it’s Barb. Got your message.  What can I do for you?  Did you decide you’d like to go for a ride?”  She laughed.

“Well, yes actually.  I was wondering if you might be able to fly me to Dwight in one of your helicopters?”

“Dwight?  Sure.  When were you thinking?  Tomorrow?  Sunday?”  Barb asked.

He shook his head, “Um, well.  Would this evening be possible?”

Barb laughed, “Impetuous, much?   I guess I could probably do that.  Do you have a spot to land?  I’ll have to file a flight plan.”

“Yeah, there’s a church with a huge parking lot and lawns not too far away.  Although, I don’t seem to remember the name of it.”

“No problem.  I’ll pull out the maps.  When do you want to go?  Can you get to our hanger in Brampton Field?  Give me about an hour and we should be ready for lift.”

“I’ll call a driver.  See you soon then.”  He fist bumped the air.  _Something from this hellish day is finally going right._   A quick call to the car service and he skipped off into his bedroom to throw some clothes into his bag and caught a look of himself in the mirror.  He groaned and dashed into the bathroom to wash his pits and run a bit of wax in his hair. He gargled a capful of mouthwash and grimaced – _the pinot definitely tasted better.  Oh, better take the kit bag, don’t want to smell like lilacs again._

Fifteen minutes later, the driver buzzed and Richard slung his backpack over his shoulder with a smile, certain his good spirits had nothing to do with the spirits he consumed.   Sitting back in the seat of the Lincoln Town Car, he called Evangeline.

“I’m standing you up, Evie.”

Evangeline laughed, “Better offer?”

“That remains to be seen, but I hope so. I think so.”

“Oh I see.  Miss Complicated I presume?”

“That obvious?”

“It was inevitable.  You’re in a stew and behaving irrationally so somehow I knew it was just a matter of time before you pulled your head out of your arse and figured it out.  But here I am, desperate and dateless on a Friday night – stood up by my old dependable buddy.”

“Rain cheque?”

“You’re gonna owe me.  At least two baklavas next time.”

“So I’m forgiven, then?”

Evangeline laughed, she could hear the puppy dog eyes expression in his voice, “Of course. Now go woo your lady – and do NOT lie to her.  Did you hear me? You listen to Auntie Evie.  She’ll steer you right.”

“Yes, mam.  See you Monday morning. And Evie, I love you dearly.”

“Love you too, even though you’ve jilted me too many times!”

They both hung up with smiles on their faces.    Half an hour later, the car pulled up to the Fly Me to the Moon hangar at Brampton Field.   Richard stepped out of the car to see Barb wave him over.

“So, this is unexpected.”  Barb smiled warmly.

Richard reached out to shake her hand in greeting, “Hello Barb, thanks for this.  We’re all set to land on the church’s parking lot?”

“Yeah, no problem.  Okay, hop in.”  They climbed in and Barb handed him a headset.  “We’ll be in the air for about an hour, and it’s too noisy to talk without the headset.  We’re in controlled airspace the whole time but you’ve got the job of watching for aircraft and pointing out anything approaching us or that we’re headed towards.  I’ll check in with you from time to time and I need you to give me a thumbs up or thumbs down to tell me how you’re doing okay?”

He responded with a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.  “I do the same thing when I’m flying.”

Barb’s attention was absorbed in piloting the helicopter without any time for Richard, other than the occasional check in to see how he was faring.  Once they cleared the Greater Toronto Area airspace, Barb relaxed a little and they had time to chat.   They shared stories and experiences from New Zealand, laughing and happily remembering their favourite places and memories.   With his characteristic tact and charm, he subtly let Barb know that they were destined to be friends … but nothing more.

Landing in the parking lot of the Stewart United Church, Barb got out to go through an external check before heading back to Toronto.

“Thanks so much Barb.  Just drop off your invoice on Monday and I’ll pay you straight away.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this – it means the world to me.”

“Glad to do it, Richard.  Hopefully you’ll be able to do some pleasure flying while you’re here.  Just give us a call if you’d like to go up.”  She waved and watched wistfully as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked down the road.  He turned as she lifted off and gave her two thumbs up.

It was nearly two kilometres from the church to Hannah’s house.  The last time he was on that road, they walked it together.  Hopefully the next time he’d be on it, they’d be together too.

_What the hell am I doing?  I walk through that door and there’s no going back.  I was bloody right to walk away.  She’s too good for this.  But she’s a grown woman, she can make up her own mind.   I don’t even know her, maths be damned.  That feeling of peace though … that was rare.  She felt it too.   She might say she’d go to New York, but she just doesn’t know …_

The entire walk to Hannah’s house was spent on the same merry-go-round.  Twice he pulled out his cell phone to call for a taxi to whisk him away, twice he put it back.   Her house came into view and he stopped dead in his tracks.  He rubbed the back of his neck and stared. 

_What the hell am I doing?_

He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and huffed.

_It’s not like we’re getting married.  We’re just going to date for Pete’s sake._

He kicked at the gravel and looked up at the dusky sky.  The birds were quietening down, ready for a good night’s rest.

_Walk away.  Just do the both of you a favour and walk away._

He pulled a hand out and worried the cuticle on his thumb.

_We’re adults – we can deal with this.  We’re not exactly in the first blush of youth._

He rubbed his temples and hoped it would help the blood circulation to his brain.

_Oh for fuck’s sake, just go up and knock on the door.  Be a man!_

With dogged determination, he marched to the front door and raised his hand to knock.  He faltered for just a second before rapping hard five times.  He heard movement in the house and almost bolted.  He closed his eyes and asked the universe to be gentle with him. 

The rusty hinges squeaked as she opened the door.  He opened his eyes and looked at her when he heard her gasp.

“Rich?  What are you doing here?”  She exclaimed.

“I could go if …”

“Don’t you dare!  Come here, you!”  She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight.  “Come in, come in, come in.”  She reached for his hand to pull him into the house and stopped, puzzled, when he didn’t budge.  “Coming?”   She said and snickered.  _Coming._

“I need to you invite me in, Hannah.”  He said very seriously.

She laughed, “What?  Have you turned into a vampire or something?”

He gently tugged on her hand and drew her to him.  “Hannah, you know what it means if I walk through that door.   There’ll be no more innocent spooning.  In the last couple of weeks, you’ve only had a wee glimpse of the insanity that follows my life: unpredictable schedules; horrible gossip; travelling all over the globe on a moment’s notice; and …  well, you know.  If I come in, you’re opening yourself up to all of it.  Disappointment, frustration, insults, the whole kit.”

She looked at him unblinking for a minute before replying.  “Rich, you’re a terrible salesman.  Are you … well … are you trying to get me to say no?”

“I should do but can’t seem to.  I just want you to know what you’re inviting into your life.”

She smiled at that.  It had always been her who was full of doubt and him who was confident.  Her heart softened as she looked at his half panicked, half hopeful expression.   She stood up taller and looked him in the eye, “Richard, please come into my house, my bed and my life.”

He lifted her up off the ground and squeezed her to him, kissing her hard and deep, moaning as she kissed him back, just as hard and just as deep.  _How the hell could I have doubted this?_ He laughed and twirled her around in the air until she squealed.  “Right, let’s go in then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the end of chapters in the draft, pending post. From here on in, I will be writing each chapter and posting it as soon as it's done. Hopefully I'll be able to post at least once a week. The next chapter is giving me troubles but hopefully will be done soon.


End file.
